


What is a Dad?

by Armybrat26



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bottom Dean Winchester, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Panic Attacks, Parent Dean Winchester, Top Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2019-11-14 02:51:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 38
Words: 71,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18044057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Armybrat26/pseuds/Armybrat26
Summary: At the ripe age of four, Dean Winchester became a parent, mostly because John became an empty shell after Mary's death. He struggles to raise his younger brothers Sam and Adam while trying to juggle work and school.





	1. The fire

The fire was a complete surprise to Dean.  
He wasn't expecting to wake up to the sound of cackling fire and his mother screaming in agony. But it wasn't something he would ever forget.

Dean woke to a strange feeling in his stomach, he sat up, thinking he probably just had to go potty.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he heard a sound, one he had only heard on T.V. Daddy liked to watch loud movies, but it didn't make sense, why was daddy up so late? 

He pushed his blankets down by his ankles and clambered out of his bed. His feet were cold on the wood floors as he hurried toward that sound. It sounded a lot like Mommy, but that didn't make any sense either, why was she up so late? 

Sometimes Sammy woke up upset and mommy would go and check on him. But what if something was really wrong this time?  


Dean twisted the door knob open, light filling up the hall, and black clouds of smoke running from Sammy's open door. He heard it again, Mommy was screaming, screaming for daddy to help or for someone to grab Sammy. Dean wasn't big enough to hold Sammy on his own, so he waited by his door. He heard daddy's footsteps running up the stairs, he didn't hesitate to follow after. Daddy would know what to do, daddy would help Dean hold Sammy.  


He heard daddy calling for mommy, frozen in the doorway as his eyes found mommy. Dean thought he would run in and grab her and Sammy, but Daddy had stopped so fast, he had bumped into his leg. Daddy turned and looked at Dean, his face looked drained of all emotion as his eyes traveled from his oldest son to his wife. Dean's eyes couldn't help but follow the same path.  


Hot reds and oranges licked around the nursery, John ran in, eyes set on his crying son in his crib. Sammy was covered in Mary's blood, something he nearly wept at, but he had his sons to look after, and at that thought he turned.  


Dean.

That was the first thing he saw. His four year old son, staring up at his dying mother, eyes concerned and full of questions. He ran toward Sammy's doorway, trying to be as big as possible and block Dean from seeing anything more than what he had already. Shoving Sam into his arms, he gave Dean a push and commanded,  


"Take your brother outside and run as fast as you can!" Dean turned around and hurried toward the stairs. With one look over his shoulder, waiting for his father to follow after him, John yelled,  


"Now Dean Go!"  


And so Dean ran, trying to hold Sammy close to his chest as he hopped down the stairs, the entire time his thoughts bounced back and forth. Mommy didn't like when he ran inside, Daddy didn't like him holding Sammy by himself, especially on the stairs. 

By the time he made it downstairs and out the front door, smoke had started screaming up toward the sky. The familiar sounds of firetrucks and ambulances called their arrival from up the street. Dean waited on his front lawn, staring up at Sammy's window. Before Dean could pull his eyes away, heavy hands picked him from the ground and ran.  


He wanted to scream, to kick out, anything to get dad to put him down. Mommy was still inside.  


John held Sammy, Dean right by his side as firefighters tried to get into the house, but John knew it was too late. Mary was gone.  


Dean tried to ask Daddy what was going on, where was mommy, but all he got in reply was, "Dean, please stop asking," and he handed Sammy over. 

Dean took him, careful to use both hands just like mommy told him the first time they brought him home. He turned toward his father again and opened his mouth, ready for another question, but John raised his hand up in silence.  


"Stop talking, just...just watch Sammy, okay Dean? Can you do that for me?" He breathed tiredly.

Dean looked down at his baby brother, Sammy was sleeping, albeit, covered in red and soot. He looked back to his dad and nodded. Sammy, of course he could look after Sammy. Maybe if he took care of Sammy, daddy would tell him what happened to Mommy.  


So after that day, that's what Dean did. They were staying at a hotel right now, Daddy said the house needed to be fixed, so they couldn't live there. The hotel was nice, Dean got a big bed all to himself, and the hotel people were even nice enough to bring in a plastic crib. It was easy for Dean to push down and grab Sammy when he was upset. Thankfully, that wasn't a lot, otherwise Dean would have to put Sammy in bed with him. He had done that the first night they had gotten there, he didn't want to sleep alone. 

He didn't like to think about what happened the last time he slept alone. Sometimes, when he closed his eyes, he could still see mommy. He didn't like to do that though, and never looked up, for fear of seeing her on their hotel room ceiling.  


It took Dean a few tries to get Sammy's bottle right, sometimes it was too cold and Sammy would get sick later. But Dean figured it out soon enough. 

Just like when he figured out Daddy didn't like him asking too many questions, so he stayed quiet, played with Sammy, fed him, or rocked him to sleep. On the days daddy would go out at dark, Dean would crawl into Sammy's crib with him. He really didn't like being alone. But with Sammy, he never had to be.


	2. School

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is older, six, and John struggles with sending Dean to school or having him stay home and take care of Sammy.

Dean was sitting in his first grade classroom when Mrs. Julie, the counselor, came into the room with a quick knock. She looked at Dean's teacher and hurried over toward her desk, whispering something sharply, that Dean couldn't hear, Mrs. Julie's eyes landed on him. With a strained smile, she made her way over to him.

He looked so small today, like he knew he would be going home and shouldn't take up a lot of space for the few hours he had been there. He had such a sweet face, nothing like his father's.

Something about John Winchester didn't sit right with her. She didn't like him, that was a definite. But when he had come into the office, tugging a crying Sam behind him, she knew that she didn't like him for a reason.  


Kneeling beside his desk, Mrs. Julie set her elbows on top of his table and gave him another smile.  


"Dean, your father is here, and he's asking for you. Would you mind accompanying me down to the office?" Dean's eyes went wide, hurriedly, he shoved his papers and pencil back into his backpack and nearly ran out of the room without her. She sighed, hoping to have gotten a few words out of him, but like the year before, nothing.

She stood upright, nodding toward his teacher, she turned and held out her hand for Dean to take. His grip was tight, hand almost sweating, as they trekked toward the main office. She was always worried about him, wondering what went on at home, and how he was still going on nearly two years later, without one word. All those thoughts evaporated as soon as he saw his younger brother.  


John had a firm grip around his wrist, not his hand like Mrs. Julie and Dean, but his wrist, like he could care less if he left marks on his son. As Dean's eyes landed on his baby brother, he ripped his hand from Mrs. Julie's grasp and ran forward toward him. He had big crocodile tears rolling down his cheeks, but he smiled at Dean nonetheless. Raising his arms up as Dean hurried over to him.

He should have been too big for Dean to carry, being nearly half his height, but that didn't stop Dean. He pulled Sammy into his arms, John dropping his hold as soon as Dean arrived. Setting Sammy on his hip, he hugged him tightly.  


"What's a matter baby?" He asked. It sounded almost wrong coming from his young little mouth. Mrs. Julie watched as John finished filling out his withdrawal paperwork. When she had asked about it earlier, she had only gotten a grumbled, "moving, that's why."

She continued to watch the two brothers speaking quietly to each other, heart filling with sadness at the thought of so much responsibility being thrust onto someone so young. Probably because John didn't want to take care of them. Sliding the paperwork over with a grunt, John turned and nodded his head toward the door. Wordlessly, Dean followed after him, Sam in his arms and not another care in the world.  


The journey to the car was a silent one, like it had been for the past year. Dean found it was just easier not to speak in John's presence than hear him yelling at him for it later. Sammy sniffed in his tears as Dean made his way to the backseat. Pulling to door open with one hand, no help from John, Dean carefully climbed into the back. After he finished buckling Sam into his car seat, John left little time for Dean to buckle his own belt. Sammy reached over, hand finding Dean's, and squeezed it tightly.  


"Sorry Dee," Sammy whispered, sniffling in between breaths. He smiled over at him, he could tell he was trying to calm down now, especially now that Dean was here. He rubbed his thumb reassuringly over the back of Sam's little hand.  


"It's okay Sammy, I don't like school anyhow."  


By the time they had made it back to the hotel, Sam was slumped in his car seat, exhausted from his meltdown earlier. A meltdown Dean still had no idea what the cause was. As John pulled to a stop, not transitioning into park like Dean expected, he grunted a firm "go on," and Dean was unbuckling Sammy. His brother was getting harder to carry, but Dean didn't care, he hefted Sam into his arms, carrying him much like he did when he was younger. He huffs against Dean's neck when he shifts him to unlock the hotel door, but aside from that, he remains asleep.  


Without looking back, he hears the purr of the impala as it drives off, undoubtedly to a bar. Dean fights the urge to roll his eyes as he drops his keys onto the nightstand beside his and Sammy's bed. Their "temporary stay" at the hotel hasn't come to an end. But this time, Dean has a feeling John didn't want to stay in Kansas any longer. He didn't like the comments Dean's teacher would leave on his homework, or the inquisitive counselor, the hotel manager knocking on their door once a week. Basically, the town itself was grating on his nerves, Dean was surprised they had stayed so long after Mary's death.  


Laying Sam down onto their bed, Dean tried to pull away, small hands grappled with the back of his shirt. He fought off a smile.  


"I ain't goin' anywhere buddy, just let me take my backpack off, and we can nap." He said softly. 

Reluctantly he pulled away, he only had a moment to pout before Dean was giving him a gentle nudge into the center of the bed. As soon as he had kicked off his shoes, he rolled onto his back and pulled Sammy against his side. Sam clutched onto his t-shirt, fingers nearly digging into his skin as Sammy shifted around, trying to get comfortable. After a minute or two of wrestling around, Dean sighed.  


"Sammy, what is it?" At the sound of his voice, Sam stilled. He sniffed, and Dean could feel, rather than see Sammy's eyes welling with tears. He sat up, looking down at his brother Dean was quick in pulling his shirt off. Bare skin greeted him a bit begrudgingly against the cold. As he made a move to check his butt, Sam pulled back away from him, shaking his head fast.  


"N-n-no Dee, don't look. I did a bad and daddy wasn't happy." Dean's heart froze. Not Sammy. Sammy was just a baby, John shouldn't be hitting him, especially for something that most likely wasn't his fault.  


"Baby, you got to let me check." The term of endearment didn't fall on deaf ears. Sammy whined, he knew when Dean took that tone he wanted to smother him in care. But that was what he kind of wanted, his bum did hurt after daddy hit him with his belt. Silently, he nodded in agreement. Turning Sam away from him, he pulled the edge of his pants down, enough to see his cheek was red from whatever punishment John thought he deserved. He felt his insides tighten. No. Not his Sammy.  


"Dee?" Sam spoke quietly. Dean knew he had been staring at the red for awhile now and gently moved to cover him up. He engulfed Sam into his arms, kissing his forehead gently, just like mom use to when he was Sammy's age.  


"It's okay buddy, I know you didn't mean whatever made daddy upset. It's okay, I still love you." At that they both fell into a heavy sleep. Dean's arms wrapped tightly around Sammy, he would protect him no matter what. He thought to himself as he nuzzled his face into Sam's hair. No matter what.  


Night left them both alone, leaving their dreams peaceful and quiet. Dean wouldn't be surprised if John didn't come home while they were asleep, sometimes he liked to stay out real late, only to stumble in during breakfast. Dean was getting good at making breakfast, Sammy never had any complaints. The thought of breakfast is what woke him. He hadn't realized how hungry he was until then. He sighed, turning in his bed, hands reaching out for his baby, but when they came up empty his eyes nearly ripped apart. He sat up, looking frantically around the room, his eyes landed on Sammy sitting on the floor watching T.V. He heaved out a breath he hadn't known he was holding. Thank God.  


"Buddy, you hungry?" Dean asked, climbing down from their bed, rubbing the previous day away from his mind. Sammy didn't respond, just sat there staring intently at whatever show was playing.

Geez, Dean thought to himself, that kid could turn on the T.V. by himself, he was already so friggen smart. He walked around his brother, eyes finding the T.V. playing a cartoon, a sad little bird calling for his mother. Sam looked so confused with each cry the bird gave. Finally recognizing Dean's presence, he turned and looked up at him.  


"What's a mama?"  


Dean froze. He wasn't supposed to be asking questions like this, Dad never wanted to speak about Mary, so Dean never told Sam about her.

God he wanted to, he wanted to tell him about her smile, how soft her hugs were, and how she sang to him when he was sad. That last part, Dean still lived by, anytime Sammy was upset, Dean sang to him. But right now, Sammy wasn't upset, he was confused. Dean cleared his throat, the looked from the T.V. down to his brother. Why wasn't dad here to explain this? Dean didn't know what to say. He took a seat beside Sam on the ground, crossing his legs, he leaned forward.  


"Um, a mama is...well- a mommy really i-is someone who takes care of you when you are sad, who kisses your owies, and who hugs you all the time." Dean nodded to himself, yeah, that seemed like a good enough explanation. Sammy tilted his head, looking at Dean intently.  


"Are you a mama Dee?" Dean sat back at that. 

Technically he did all of those things, but for Sammy, because that's what Dad had told him to do. To take care of Sammy. So maybe he was a mama, he just didn't know it until then.  


"I-uh-I think so." He paused, eyes looking down at Sam. "Do you want me to be a mama?"  


Sam thought about it for a moment. "Can I still call you Dee?" Dean smiled, nodding his head. "And I can call you mama?"  


Dean looked up at the T.V. thankfully the little bird seemed to have found it's mother. He looked back down at Sam. "Okay, but don't do it around daddy, he doesn't like to talk about mommies."

"Okay mama."


	3. Big Boy Sammy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John finally pulled them across the country, as far from Kansas as he could, finding a shitty town in Maine. After Dean comes home with a note from his teacher, John has questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Abuse, verbal and physical, John's a douchebag

Sammy was sitting in the impala, waiting for Dean to finish with school so they could go play. Dean had said if he had been good for John, they could go to the park later. As he waiting, listening to the soft growl the impala gave every now and again, he thought back to today. Dad worked later, when Dee came home from school, he usually went off to work.

Today was no different, except as he saw Dean coming out of the school, a lady was following beside him. Dean didn't look happy, he looked really upset, like he was nearly a word away from bursting into tears. John got out of the car, sending a look back at Sam that didn't need any words to go with it. He waited in the car, watching as John walked over to Dean. The lady started talking to him, she seemed real nice, but Dad seemed to grow more and more angry as she spoke. When she handed him a piece of paper, John snatched it from her hands and barked something back at Dean.

Sam waited for Dean to get in the back with him, but as Dad pulled open his door, he heard him grunt, "front seat, now."  
Dean slowly opened the door, eyes not meeting Sam's as he climbed into the passenger seat. He was getting bigger, like any eight year old would, but he shrank back into his seat at John's glare. The car jumped with a shout as he sped away from that stupid school. That woman didn't know what she was saying, Dean was fine, he knew that. He was grumbling to himself the entire trip back as he pulled to a stop in front of their two bedroom rental. Dean made a move to quickly get out of the car, but John caught hold of his backpack.

"Sam, go inside and get you a snack." He growled. Sam's eyes found Dean's in the rearview mirror. With a definite shake of his head, Sam knew Dean wanted him to do as he was told. Remembering what Dean had said earlier, about being good for John, Sam nodded. As soon as his little hands closed the door behind himself and he had let himself inside, he released Dean's bag.  
He threw the piece of paper Ms. Grace had given him earlier at Dean.

"Tell me what this is about." Dean's hands shook as he brought the paper into his line of sight. He swallowed the lump in his throat, eyes cast down at the paper as he read over the words. Well, technically, as his eyes scanned over the page. That was what the problem was really, why Ms. Grace was so concerned. She really did try, she explained everything to Dean real slow, sounded out each word, and even kept him a few minutes during recess so he could practice. But the thing was...Dean couldn't really read.

"Uh...i-its about...um..." He cleared his throat, trying so hard not to sound weak, John didn't like when he did that. John waited patiently, for once in their lives, he had time to wait on Dean. He turned the impala over, they both sat in silence as Dean tried to read the paper again.

"Uh-its-uh its...about me?" He asked.

John snatched the paper away, nearly seething with anger. "Yes, it's about you, you little moron. Your bitch of a teacher says here that you can't fucking read." Dean's eyes instantly filled with tears. He felt John's hand tug his chin, lifting his eyes up to John's. John's eyebrows were heavy, his entire demeanor made Dean want to look away, but he knew if he did he would get in trouble.

"Tell me she's lying." He said through gritted teeth. His fingers tightened on Dean's chin, finally Dean's restraint broke and he cast his eyes down, trying to pull away from John's hold. As soon as he did, John released him, moving to grab his upper arm instead. "I said," pulling Dean in toward his angry face. "Tell. Me. That. She's. Lying." He barked in his face.

Ashamed, Dean shook his head, tears finally making their way down his cheeks. He had tried so hard to keep this from John, but apparently it wasn't enough. Ms. Grace found out anyway, no doubt from his illegible handwriting. But why would she tell John? She had met him when they had first arrived in this stupid town, she knew he was a mean man. Why would she want to tell him something that could get him in trouble.

"Get out of the car, I don't want to see your stupid self here. You can go inside when I call the house." He said, shoving Dean away from him and into the passenger door. Dean absentmindedly rubbed the spot where the handle connected with his shoulder.

"But what about Sammy?" Dean asked quietly. At the sound of him talking back, going against John's wishes, he saw red. He kicked open the driver's side door and stomped around to where his stupid son sat, staring dumbly at him through the window. He ripped the door open, hand roughly pulling Dean out, not giving him a chance to find his footing. As soon as he was away from the door, John shoved him down to the ground, sending a kick in his direction as he slammed the door shut. Fucking kids and their talking back. What part of 'I don't want to see you right now,' did he not understand. Mary would be ashamed of him, the little idiot couldn't even get out of the car without help.

"Your brother can take care of himself. Stay here, like the dumb animal you're pretending to be right now." He stalked past him and into the house. The door frame shook as he slammed the door shut.

Sam sat at the kitchen table, a crayon in his hand as he scribbled noncommittally on a piece of paper. His eyes looked up at the sound of the door, but as it slammed shut, he automatically looked down. John's heavy boots carried him over to where Sam had perched for the time being.  
"You're brother is outside because he is in trouble, you'll leave him out there, do you understand?" John asked, eyes staring down his youngest son. Sammy nodded wordlessly. At that John left him alone and made his way back outside.

Sam waited until he heard the distinct sound of the gravel crunching beneath the car's tires. He waited a beat, and then another. He had said Dean had to stay outside, but he hadn't said Sammy couldn't stay with him. With a firm decision in hand, Sammy pushed himself away from the table and hopped out of his chair. He could reach the doorknob now, mama didn't like when he did though, always told Sammy if he wanted to go outside he had to ask. He found Dean sitting in the gravel, trying to gather himself together, holding onto his sore knee. During John's meltdown he had kicked him really hard in the leg and Dean was trying to rub away the pain.

At the sound of the door closing behind him, he stiffened. Shit. Sammy was here, probably wondering why he was sitting in the dirt crying his eyes out like a little girl. He hurried to wipe his face from any evidence as Sammy walked over to him. He squatted down beside him, hands immediately seeking out Dean's. He knew he was upset, he always could tell when he was trying to hide it from him.

"Mama?" Dean didn't look up, he was older now, he knew now what a mama was, he just didn't have it in him to tell Sammy to stop calling him that. But Sammy needed a mom, even if it was someone like Dean, a stupid kid that couldn't even read a four letter word without stumbling. At Dean's silence, Sammy sat down beside him, shoulder leaning against his sore spot where he had connected with the door handle.

"What is it Sammy?" He asked, voice thick with the struggle of trying to hold his tears back.  
He nearly yelped in surprise as Sam's arms wound around his neck, his little chest colliding with Dean's. Sure his bony knee was digging into the sore spot on his leg, but he couldn't care less. He had his Sammy right here, hugging him through the worst of it.

"It's okay mama, whatever you did that made daddy upset, I know you wasn't your fault, I still love you." Dean choked back a sob, clinging tightly onto Sammy. "Okay baby, thank you, I love you too." Sammy held on for another moment before grumbling something beneath his breath. Dean pulled away, checking Sammy's face.

"What is it Sammy?" He asked, pushing back a strand of way too long hair from his face. Sam pouted at Dean in return. "I'm not a baby, I'm a big boy." Dean smiled. He pulled him to his chest once more.  
"Okay buddy, whatever you say."


	4. Adam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam is almost seven and Dean is 10 when John brings home a baby. As soon as Dean's eyes land on him he knew it. He couldn't go back to school now, even if he wanted to.

"Mom!" Sam called from in his room.

Dean had been washing the dishes when he sent Sam upstairs to do his homework. Thankfully it was something easy, something that Dean knew he would be able to help with. He hoped that would be the case for a few more years too, otherwise Sammy would find out too, how dumb Dean really was.

Even at the age of seven, after being exposed to other kids his age and talking about their mommies and daddies, Sam hadn't stopped calling him that. He only did in the presence of their father, but still he called Dean it often enough, it shouldn't have surprised him this time. But with a smile, it did once more.

"Yeah Sammy?" He called back. Drying his hands on a towel by the counter, he made his way toward the bottom of the stairs. Some days he and Sam would sit there, reading one of Sammy's books together. He was getting better, it helped that Sammy was struggling with some words too, Dean didn't feel stupid everytime he messed up.

Sammy appeared at the top of the steps, a book in hand as he made his way down the steps. This book looked a little different than the usual books they read, it kind of worried him for a brief moment.

Sam sat down with a heavy sigh. One that instantly brought wrinkles to Dean's forehead. He was quick to sit down beside him, hand finding it's way on his shoulder.

"What is it baby?" At that Sammy shrugged his hand off and gave a familiar pout.

"Mama, I'm not a baby, I'm almost seven now." Dean felt a laugh leave his lips.

"Of course, how could I forget, you're basically a man now." He said eyes downcast at the thought, he was going to miss Sam being little, Sam calling him mom, and he didn't like how unsettling it made him feel.

Sam's hand found Dean's, catching his attention. As their eyes met Dean gave him a fake smile. "Mama, no matter how big I get you'll still be there. Don't worry. And one day I bet I'll be even bigger than you." He said with a big toothy smile.

Dean rolled his eyes at the thought. "Sure Sammy, whatever you say. Now what's this?" He asked, bringing the attention back. Sam brought the book into his lap, it was a small book, one with chapters in it, something Dean hated in his own class, but now feared for Sam's. Soon Sam would find out.

"Mr. Jacob wants us to start reading bigger books," he paused, hands fiddling with the corners of the book until Dean rested his hand on top. "Um... he wants us to get one of our parents signatures on our reading logs. I know dad is busy, so I was gonna ask if you could do it."

Dean didn't respond right away, his mind went completely blank as he tried to come up with a good enough excuse, besides 'I'm not your real mom'. He didnt dare look up into Sam's puppy dog eyes, of he did he would totally cave and end up singing his named in shitty letters.

Thankfully before he could respond, the door opened, signaling John's arrival. He had been gone a few days, nothing unusual. Except inside of bringing his dufflebag in with him, he brought something bundled up in a little blanket.

Dean got to his feet, pulling Sammy up beside him silently. What was he doing with a baby? Why did he bring it here? Sam seemed to be just as confused as he was, but he was the braver of the two and spoke first.

"Dad what is that?" He asked, the bluntness not coming off as disinterest, but as childlike manner. John jerked his head to the side, signaling them to come closer. John held out the baby, setting him into Dean's arms expectantly.

"This is your baby brother, his name is Adam." Dean nearly dropped him at the news. It was hard enough taking care of Sam some days, but a baby too? Was John going to stay home to take care of him?

"Sam, why don't you give your brother and I a minute." He said, not as a question. Sam looked back between them, eyes finally landing on Dean. Looking for guidance once more. A firm nod, gave him his answer and he hurried up the stairs back into their room.

Dean's eyes followed him nearly the entire time, even after the had gone from his sight. Adam was warm and small in his arms, he couldn't be more than a few months old. Dean looked down at him, his eyes entrapped on the little guy.

"Dean, um, I was thinking," dad never talked like that, so unsure, so whatever it was it was probably important. Dean's eyes lifted from Adam's spell as he looked up at John.

"I was thinking that maybe we take you out of school for awhile so you could help me take care of Adam. I mean you were so good with Sam when he was a baby, Adam shouldn't be much more difficult, right?"

Something akin to remorse flooded through him. He knew it, dad didn't want to keep wasting his time sending a moron like Dean to school, so why not put him to use at home? When Dean didn't answer right away with a, yes dad, of course dad. John's hand found it's way onto Dean's shoulder. His grip was tight, promising as he waited.

"I uh, I mean, I guess I could." He let out reluctantly. John clapped him on the shoulder, a wide smile gracing his face for once in months.

"Dean, you're such a good big brother. I brought his bags in already, but I have to get to work, call me if you need anything. With that he walked out the front door, careless in closing it. As it slammed shut Adam gave a cry. Me too little guy, me too, Dean thought to himself.


	5. Being a Daddy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's first few months with Adam

Dean sat on the edge of his bed, Sammy was fast asleep on the other side of the room. He smiled over at him, he was being such a good boy, especially now with Adam in the house. Dean got to his feet, his morning routine was starting and he knew he didn't have much time for sleeping in. He walked past Sammy, giving his bed head a little ruffle.

This was the third time they were preparing to move, and Dean still hated it. They had just gotten settled in another apartment when John said there was a job up in North Dakota for him. There was always a new job, somewhere else, and that required another starting over. Adam's crib lie in wait by his and Sammy's bedroom door. Of course John didn't want to bunk with a crying baby. Yet another thing Dean had to figure out how to handle.

Adam wasn't all that difficult to take care of, all he had to do was feed him formula every now and again, change his diaper, and make sure he fell asleep on his back. He stood beside the edge of his crib, his little hands were beside his head, face turned away from Dean. He smiled. He was a good boy too. Even if Dean sometimes resented him, he tried hard to be a good mom for Adam too. Adam was getting big now, he was nearly a year old, his stumpy little knees pushed him around the house, making Dean nearly trip on every surface trying not to step on him.

Dean gently pulled the door open, careful of all the creaks and groans it could make and wake Adam prematurely. With a quick glance back at both sleeping babies, Dean left the room. Not even granting John's bedroom door a glance, he set off toward the stairs, mentally making a list of all the things they needed for groceries. Sammy was starting to like heartier things for breakfast, so he'd have to tell John exactly what to get. The only reason John went to the supermarket for them was because anytime he told Dean to go, people would ask questions. Why was he alone, who's baby was he carrying, was he going to walk home, etc. John hated questions, often blamed Dean for not being careful enough.

He had started heating up a skillet, turning away to prepare a bowl for pancakes. Sammy loved pancakes, and Adam, he was starting to eat more solid foods, so teething on a pancake seemed like a much more favorable option than Dean's finger.

"Mama?" Sammy asked from behind him. Dean turned, eyes falling on his little brother. His hand was fisted in his eye, trying to rub away the heavy sleep he had arisen from. "I think Addie is awake." He said, looking over his shoulder toward the stairs. Dean nodded, closing the fridge behind him and trekking up the stairs. Upon opening his door, Adam was standing in his crib, holding onto the edge, his lost binky having made its appearance once more. He smiled at Dean through it, and Dean couldn't help but return it.

As he walked over to the crib he heard Sammy from downstairs. Adam was tucked against his side as he spun around, the sound of Sammy's cries nearly ripping his heart out. He stood still for a moment, knees shaking with the familiar sounds of screaming in the house. He heard John clambering out of bed and running down the stairs. At that, he quickly followed, carefully pressing Adam's head to his chest as he ran.

They both arrived in the kitchen, the scene evident. The frying pan Dean had been heating was on the floor, Sammy clutching his hand against his chest. John hurried over to him, lifting him up and onto the counter.  
"Sam, it's okay, let me see." He asked, breath still heavy with the stench of his after work activities. Dean tried to look over John's shoulder, he knew he was standing too close, if John took a step back, he would no doubt end up stepping on him. Sam was shaking his head, clutching his hand to his chest.

"No! I want mama to look at it!" John's shoulders froze.

Dean took a step back, hugging Adam close, trying to come up with some type of excuse. Anything other than what John already knew. He looked over his shoulder, eyes studying Dean's figure. No, he couldn't be...was he talking about Dean? There was no way, no way, John thought to himself. He looked at the ashen look on Dean's face, only from the prospect of Sammy getting hurt. Something protective and frightening at the same time. Something like a mother would give to her baby.

He took a step back, motioning for Dean to hand Adam over. Dean stared at him, wondering if that was really what it would take to get to Sammy. But he couldn't risk Adam getting hurt either. Adam was too little. John seemed to see the mistrust in his son's eyes and scoffed.

"Just hand me the baby, you can't help Sammy if you're holding Adam." He reasoned. Dean surveyed him once more, his eyes pulled away at the sound of Sammy sniffling. Shit. He lifted Adam from his place on his chest, and passed him over, hands trying to release him, but still holding onto his little waist. "Dean," John said tiredly. He didn't have time for him to be mother hening over everyone this morning. When Dean finally let him go, he hurried around John, hands finding Sammy's cheeks getting him to look at Dean's face.

"Sammy, what have I told you about trying to help me in the kitchen? You're too little, you can't see the stove baby." He said, wiping away a few tears. Sammy nodded his head, holding his hand out for Dean to inspect. "I-I know mama," He said in between hiccuping. "I-I-I just wanted to-to help you with pancakes." Dean turned on the sink, cold water churning through the pipes as he led Sammy's hand into the cold stream. Sam whimpered, his uninjured hand clutching Dean's tightly. He could feel John's eyes heavy on the back of his head. Ignoring that feeling, he focused solely on Sammy. He could worry about John's punishments later, right now his Sammy was hurt.

After a few moments beneath the water, Dean shut it off, and pulled Sammy down, setting him back on the floor. He led Sammy over toward the bathroom, the only solution he could think of was Vaseline. After applying a small layer on his palm, he gave Sammy's wrist a kiss.

"There, all better right?" He asked. Sammy nodded, burying his face into Dean's chest as he hugged him tightly. "Yes mama, I promise not to touch the stove anymore." As they walked out of the bathroom, John was standing, waiting for them beside the couch. Adam was playing with John's old dog tags, his eyes lighting up when they landed on Dean.

"Sam, why don't you get dressed for school. I'll take you today." John said coolly. Sam nodded, scampering off past them both, John set Adam in his play pin, his back toward Dean as he gently brushed Adam's face. He hadn't noticed how big he was getting. Perhaps Dean was doing a good enough job. But he couldn't go around letting Sam, and God forbid Adam calling him that one day. Dean was a boy, he couldn't be a mom, plus Sammy had a mother of his own, she had just been taken from them.

He could practically feel the tension rolling off of Dean by the time he turned back around. He took a step forward, nearly growling when Dean took a step back.  
"Dean," He began slowly.  
"Y-yes sir?"

"Why is Sammy calling you mommy?" Dean's eyes grew wide, he could see him trying to come up with some sort of explanation. "Did you tell him to call you that?" He asked, taking another step closer. Dean shrank back against the wall. He was shaking his head quickly in response.

"N-no sir. H-he just started-started calling me that when...when he was little." John reached forward, hand gripping Dean's arms as he pulled him from the living room wall. He started pulling Dean back toward the bathroom, eyes intent on one thing. "You know I don't like it when you lie Dean. You told him to call you that, didn't you? You're mother wasn't good enough so you thought you could be better. Isn't that it?" He asked as he shoved Dean into the bathroom, his socked feet causing him to slide into the counter. His hip took most of the hit, but he wasn't fast enough to dodge John's punch. It sent him sprawling onto the floor.

Adam started crying in the background, something that only seemed to set John off more. He opened the cabinet beneath the sink, forcing Dean inside, not caring if he hit his head on the pipes below. Dean folded in on himself, careful to pull in any loose appendages as John slammed the doors shut behind him. He didn't start to panic until he heard the sound of John's belt twisting around the handles.

"Dad! No, please, I promise Sammy won't call me that anymore! DADPLEASE!" He beat on the door as well as he could with the small space. John gave the door a kick, silencing Dean.

"You'll stay in here until I come back from work. I''m taking your LITTLE BROTHER to school, not your son, or your fucking baby, your brother. When I get back, Adam is going with the neighbors. See how much you like being a mommy when you don't have anyone to take care of." John growled, his footsteps taking him back into the living room. Dean heard Sammy then, instantly slamming himself into the doors.

"Sammy!" He yelled at the sound of his cries. John had given him a swat across his rear, and another, the entire time screaming at him, "HE IS NOT YOUR MOMMY," until Sam cried out an affirmative. Adam's cries only seemed to grow louder with the scene undoubtedly playing before him. Dean's shoulder was starting to strain beneath his constant bashing into the doors. He heard the front door slam shut and Sam's cries vanished. He could still hear Adam, crying in his play pin, right where John had left him.

Dean tried to force the doors once more, his hand able to reach between the small opening of the doors. His couldn't reach the belt, but he could feel it beneath his fingers. The sound of the pipes coming to life around the house only made Dean whimper out. The water rushing through, trying to reach the filters, seemed to take Dean's hearing. His heart was beating as he tried to force his hand through the crease once more.

He didn't know how long he sat there, wrist scratched up by splintering wood, blood dripping down onto the cabinet floor. He finally stopped when he heard the front door open again. John's heavy steps carried him over toward Adam, where he still sat whining out for Dean. Soon his cries too left the house, the door slamming shut behind him. The sound of the impala roaring to life caught his attention. He could almost see John's face as he sped away from the house. Dean let his head thud back against the wall, tears streaming down his face as he pulled his knees up to his chest.

It must have been nearly two hours later when Dean felt a familiar sensation heavy in his gut. He clutched his legs together, tears shining to life in his eyes once more. "No," he whined, "please no." He shifted, leaning forward in the cabinet, and pressed his forehead against the cool pipes. His hands, having found their way to his crotch, pressed down beyond comfort. A few minutes passed in the same position.

He tried. He really did.

He was shifting his legs, trying to find a better position when he felt the first trickle. He let out a choked off sob, no, this couldn't be happening, he was not going to have an accident in here. He was pressing down so hard against his legs, head thumping into the wall. He was crying again, this time he barely even recognized it, way too focused on the sensation releasing his hold. His pajama pants took most of the moisture, nearly soaking him to his knees, he buried his face into his now free hands. Shit. Shitshitshit.

It was another hour before he finally stopped crying. His eyes were heavy with exhaustion, he figured if he couldn't get out, he might as well try and find some sleep.  
His pants stuck to his thighs, God he hated how cold it was. He thought about taking his pants off, but he didn't want to sit in there naked. He didn't know when John would get home, but as his eyes finally dropped, he realized he didn't care. As long as Adam was safe at the neighbors and Sammy was at school.

So he slept.

When he woke up, a foreign pain in his neck from the angle, he heard the sound of John's belt being tugged from the handles. The cabinet doors opened, Dean squinted at the sudden exposure to that much light. His eyes fell on Sammy. His little face looked so sad as he looked down at his brother.

"Mama?" he whispered. Dean closed his eyes and shook his head. "Sammy, you know daddy doesn't want you to call me that anymore." He said, words broken with just how tired he was. Sammy's hands found Dean's bleeding wrist and used it to guide him out from the cramped space.

"I don't like daddy very much Dee. I don't care what he says, but I promise I'll be more careful, I won't call you that ever in front of him, but you are my mama. No matter what." He said, helping Dean to stand upright. Dean was shivering, the cool urine was more noticeable now as he looked down. He clenched his eyes shut, instantly hating himself. Instead of saying anything, Sam pulled him away and toward their room up the stairs.

He gathered a few clothes for Dean, helping him change his shirt mindful of the damage to his wrist. Dean didn't let him help with his pants, insisting he turn around as he peeled the gross material off. As soon as he was changed, he pulled Sammy into an embrace.

They laid down in Sam's bed, clinging tightly to one another. Dean's face was pressed into Sammy's hair, he smelled just like Adam, the sweet no tears bath soap bringing a smile to Dean's face. It was like he had both of his babies there now.

When John stumbled home, recklessly slamming the door shut behind him, he remembered Dean. He turned toward the bathroom, finding the doors open and his belt on the floor. Sammy. John rolled his eyes and climbed up the stairs slowly. He walked past Sam and Dean's room. Giving the doorknob a twist, only to find it locked, he rolled his eyes once more. Stupid fucking boy.


	6. The Move

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the incident in the bathroom, John gathers the boys up and they find themselves in another town. John finds that he likes the work and the bar is open late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dean is 12 and Sam is 8, Adam is two, I prefer time skips, because fuck that noise, takes too long to grow up.

The house looked to be in better condition than the last. At least this one had a backyard. Lord knows Dean was tired of trying to keep the boys from playing in the street. Dean was standing by the impala, Sammy's hand in his, and Adam on his hip. John was trying to find the key to the front door, apparently the realtor had left them one, knowing they would be arriving at the house late. Adam's head was tucked beneath Dean's chin, his little arms loosely wrapped around his neck. Sammy was leaning into Dean's side, he knew he was just, if not more, tired than Adam. They had both been in the car for hours, trying so hard to be quiet and not anger John in anyway.

Sammy was getting smarter. He started noticing things. Things like why dad wanted Dean in the front seat. If Adam or Sam were arguing, he would reach over and pinch Dean's leg, a signal to get his brothers under control. The pinches weren't soft either. The nails dug into his thighs, leaving little bruises dotted along his leg. He knew better than to pull away, but upon one of the pinches, Dean turned and found Sam's eyes trained on him. He couldn't help but flinch away at the next one. But by that point, Sammy figured it out and was quick to shut his mouth.

Adam didn't have the same understanding as they did though. He kicked the back of John's seat, cried when he got tired, and threw his toys over the front seat. He hated being in the car for hours on end. After having only eaten junk food instead of something Dean usually made certainly didn't help his mood. Sam tried to calm him down, now agreeing with whatever he wanted, just to keep John's hands off of Dean.

Yes, he was getting bigger, and he knew more things now too. Like what it meant to hate someone. Someone like John especially.

"Mom," Sam whispered quietly. Dean turned his head, careful to keep Adam in place. He rarely spoke in John's presence, something Sammy hated more than he hated John. "Will you be going to school this time?" Dean turned away. His eyes watching as John started over turning the complementary flowers. He rubbed his face into Adam's hair, it seemed to bring him back to the present. Did he even want to go to school? Sure it would only be a few months before John decided to move them elsewhere. But what if in that time other kids found out about him. Sammy had taken the liberty of reading to him almost daily, but sometimes it didn't help. He knew how much it meant to Sam, but the words didn't always make sense, sometimes they seemed to dance around the page, jumbling the sentence and his thoughts together.

"I don't know Sammy, what about Addie?" Dean asked. Sam looked up, smiling softly at his sleeping brother. Yes, it was no secret Adam annoyed him, but he was a good brother sometimes. He always said real sweet stuff to Dean and liked to play with Sam's hair. But if he was affecting Dean's learning, he didn't know how well he and Adam were going to get along. The sound of wood splitting brought both of their attention up toward John. It seems he had had enough of waiting around.

With an angry huff, he waved the three forward. Dean's hand tightened on Sammy's, he tugged him close to his side as he slowly ventured across the lawn. John had already stumbled inside, not worrying too much about the broken lock on their door. As Dean made the three steps onto the porch, he looked around. It was a nice enough place, it even had a porch swing. Adam would like that, and Sammy could probably read to him there. Before entering the house, Dean turned, looking around at the neighboring houses. This was one of the first times in a long time that they had neighbors. Something that made Dean both relieved and anxious. With neighbors, they would be able to hear Adam's or Sam's cries if they needed help. But that also meant, they would hear Dean's if he wasn't quiet enough.

John was mumbling something to himself, checking all the rooms in the house and making sure each lock was in place. Once he journeyed across the living room again, Sam broke the silence.  
"Dad? C-could we go to bed now?" He asked quietly. John looked down at his son, noticing just how heavily he was leaning on Dean, all three of them seemed to be running on fumes. He locked eyes with Dean, their conversations becoming one of practice.

"In the morning," John began, and Dean nodded his reply. They had went through this before, this time wasn't any different than the rest. Except this house had enough rooms for everyone to sleep by themselves. Dean didn't know how to take that news, he preferred having both boys close at all times. John's room, the only room with an added bathroom sat at one end of the house, Dean and what he figured would be Adams rooms were next to one another. Sam's room was close to Johns. Something Dean didn't like at all. Perhaps he should take that room instead. Sammy knew how to check on Adam when he was upset. Nodding to himself, he tugged Sam down the hall and led him into the room where most of Dean's belongings had been moved into. He sat Sammy on the bed, holding Adam's head as he sat down beside him.

"You'll be staying here Sammy, I'll take your room okay?" Sam seemed to lose some of the tension in his shoulders at that thought. "Can you do me a favor, if Addie wakes up, can you help him get back to sleep?" Sam puffed his chest, something he had recently started to do to show Dean that he was big and strong. Dean smiled, rubbing Sam's back, he nudged him into bed.

"Mama?" Sam had started calling him that less now, especially with John's sudden regular appearance. He only called him that when he was really scared.

"Do I have to sleep in here tonight?" He asked, puppy eyes already luring Dean in. Dean shook his head.  
"If you want to stay with me, we can all go to bed in my room, okay?" At that, what he believed was a sleeping Adam, perked up in interest and nodded against his throat.  
"Don't wanna go mama." Adam said, clutching onto Dean's shirt. Adam had started picking up on Sam's every word, trying to be just like him, which is why they fought so much. But the mama thing was what scared him the most, sometimes Adam wasn't as predictable as Sam. He could get them all into some real trouble if he wasn't careful.

"Addie, we've talked about this. You can't always call me mama." He corrected as he got to his feet. Sam followed right behind him as they ventured back toward Dean's room. "Daddy isn't here." He reasoned. Dean nodded. "Fine, but be quiet, little boys are supposed to be sleeping right now." Dean led them both into his room, maneuvering around Sam's boxes with grace, before climbing into bed. He set Adam down on his back while he worked to pull his shoes off. Once his were removed, he turned to do the same for Adam. Sam had already begun taking his off, but he seemed to have a knot in one of his laces. Hopping onto the bed, he set his foot down near Dean, he was always real good at fixing those knots in his shoes.

Once everyone was beneath the sheets and piled in a warm hug, Dean allowed himself to relax. It was here, surrounded by Adam's knees in his ribs and Sam's hair tickling his nose that he felt most calm. This was home, no matter where they went, his brother's and their hugs were what helped him through the worst. 

* * *   
The following morning found Dean awake before his brothers. Like his body knew he had chores to do. It always started the same. Find the dishes, make something up for breakfast, and get the boys ready to enroll Sam into school. When he was lucky, it used to be enroll Sam and him, but now all they had to worry about was Sam, which was good. Dean reasoned. Sam was already so smart, smarter than Dean ever could be. He was careful not to jostle the boys too much, climbing over Sammy's clingy arms. As he landed safely on his feet, he smiled down at the boys. Sam instantly rolled over and enveloped Adam into his arms, Adam was quick to coo into the new warmth.

Dean made his way back toward Sam's room, where most of his stuff sat, that would definitely give him something to do today, especially while Adam took his nap. If he had known how far away Sam would have been, he wouldn't have picked the room near Adam. Shaking his head, he sifted through a box, trying to find something other than the four pairs of jeans he had been wearing all week. It was a little chilly here, the Dakotas never agreed with Dean, so he was happy when he found a pair of grey sweat pants. His hands landed on something familiar as he dug into the box once more. Dad's old leather jacket. Shoving it aside in favor of his long sleeved Led Zeppelin shirt, he pushed the box back into the corner he had found it in.

He had just barely started sorting the dishes from the cookware when the doorbell rang. That was all it took before two sets of feet came running down the hall. Dean fought the roll of his eyes. Adam seemed to have lost his pants and was running around in his underwear. At least Sam was decent.

Dean was quick to get to the door before either kid did, opening it just enough to inspect who was there. A soft face greeted him in return. A woman, around John's age with soft auburn hair, smiled down at him. Her eyes inspecting Dean's face, waiting for him to open the door further. He did, giving her a kind smile in return.

"Hello, I'm Naomi, looks like you're our new neighbors!" Dean looked down at that, finding a little girl with similar hair hiding behind her leg, and a boy with messy black hair sitting on the porch swing. The boy on the swing was accompanied by another boy, someone a little younger, around Sam's age, with a lollipop in his mouth. Dean tilted his head in question, it was a little early in the morning for sweets. At that thought his eyes returned to Naomi. In her hands sat a plate of something that smelled suspiciously like chocolate muffins.

"Oh, yes, my son and I made them for you guys," She paused, turning toward the two on the swing. "Castiel, Gabriel, come over here and meet the neighbors." She said, tone all mom-authority. It was something Dean hadn't heard in a long time, but it brought a smile to his face. The two boys got to their feet, the taller one, who he assumed was castiel or whatever, rolled his eyes. Like the effort of making friends was too much to bear, especially in the morning.

He felt hands on his waist then, without turning around he knew who was there. He gave Sam a nudge forward, and as soon as Sam stood beside him in the doorway, Adam had enough room to zip right past them.  
"Shit," Dean breathed as he weaved around Naomi's daughter. Naomi seemed to smile at their behavior. Sam stood awkwardly in the doorway still, eyes trying to remain away from Gabriel's inquisitive ones. Adam, running practically naked around the lawn, and Dean running right after him.

"Hiyah, I'm Gabriel, you can call me Gabe. I helped mom make the goodies." He said with a cocky smirk.

"Uh, hi, I'm Sam, that's my big brother Dean," He pointed to the one just catching Adam around the waist and carrying him back to the house.  
"And this butthead is Adam." Dean answered as he came back to the waiting crowd. He was a little out of breath, sue him, he hadn't had this much space to run around in awhile.

"Sorry, we don't normally run around the neighborhood naked." Dean said, offering Naomi a hand to shake. She took it, smiling in surprise at the young man before her. So well-mannered. She ushered her daughter forward, jerking her head toward her eldest son.

"This is Gabe, Anna, and Castiel," She said, pointing to each corresponding person. Dean's eyes caught sight of their father stumbling down the hall, a frown already on his face as he walked over toward the door.

"Oh, hello, I'm Naomi," she said sticking her hand out toward John. He didn't take her hand at first, he stared down at it, eyebrow raised, before reluctantly grasping ahold and giving a firm squeeze and shake. "John," he replied. "Now what are you doing here at the ass crack of dawn." Dean's eyes snapped over toward him, hissing out a hard "Dad," something he knew he should have held back. He just couldn't help it, they were such nice people to come over here. Gabe had taken a step back, finding his mother's side and even Castiel seemed to have waken up more. He stared at John, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Oh, I apologize, we were just making breakfast and figured we would bring you over some. To welcome you to the neighborhood." She said calmly. Her eyes flicked back and forth between John and each of his sons. John nodded, he turned around, conversation ended, and called over his shoulder.  
"Grab the damn thing and close the door. You're letting out all the warm air."

Dean handed Adam over to Sam, who took him without argue. He knew John was in one of his moods and it was best to comply to his orders. Dean shooed the two inside and closed the door behind them. He turned back to Naomi and her children.

"I-uh- I'm real sorry about that," he gave a light laugh, rubbing the back of his neck he nodded to the muffins. "He's not much of a morning person, but he really does appreciate you doing that. It was nice to meet you guys, um," Dean seemed to be scrambling, trying to fix John's errors. Naomi set a reassuring hand on his elbow. "It's perfectly fine, it was nice meeting you Dean, perhaps later we could help you start unpacking?" She asked with a raised brow.

"Oh, uh, y'know, I think we're okay, dad doesn't like people over this early, but, um thank you so much for the offer." He said, taking the plate from her extended hands. With one last look over his shoulder, he closed the door behind him, letting out a heavy sigh.

"Well he seems like a dick." Gabe said as they walked away. "Gabriel, language." Naomi said tiredly. Regardless if he was right or not, we didn't use that type of language. She looked back at the house, her hand holding Anna's as they walked around their fence. Yeah, she would be back, something didn't sit right well with that man.


	7. Naomi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Same day Naomi invites herself over, intent on finding all that she can about the boys.

After spending an hour at the new school, John dropped the boys off, grumbling something about having to go off to work. It was most likely an excuse to get a few beers in before he actually had to start working, but Dean took it without question.

"Dee, how long do you think he'll be gone this time?" Sam asked as they made their way up the steps and into the house. Dean was carrying Adam, much like one would a suitcase, and shrugged his shoulders in response.

"Maybe forever, then mom can stay and we can have fun all the time." Adam said as Dean tossed him onto the couch. He tried to ignore how much he agreed with that statement. Surely, they wouldn't have fun ALL the time, but it would certainly be a lot better than tip toeing around John all the time. Dean was quick to shrug off those dreams. He could make it a few more years, maybe one day that would be a true statement. He could take care of Sammy and Adam, all by himself.

He automatically went back to unpacking, John didn't like the boxes around the house for long, said it made him feel poor. Which was ironic, considering aside from groceries, Dean never saw John's money. Adam and Sammy had started another argument, something about what to watch on T.V. no doubt, when Dean heard the doorbell. He walked through the living room, hearing the dissatisfied grunts from both boys as he blocked the T.V.

As he opened the door, he was once again greeted by Naomi's face, except this time, she came alone, but not empty handed. Again, bearing a plate of something sweet smelling, Dean gave her a kind smile, opening the door and letting her in. With John gone, Dean didn't seem to care if Naomi was over. She was nice enough, and God knows Dean would be home and probably bored out of his mind, so spending time with the other neighborhood moms didn't sound like too bad of an idea.

"I know you had said earlier not to come, but I figured I could give you a hand. I remember how hard it was trying to get things together with the kids running around." She said, swiftly maneuvering around the couch and into the dinning area. Dean followed behind her, a smile on his face. She was interesting to say the least.

"So, will you be starting school soon? I know Cas is excited, he's got a full schedule this semester. He's ready to start highschool, he says he's getting tired of the middle schoolers, but Cas has always had that, been more mature than the other kids." Dean tried to follow along with her, she just spoke so quickly, barely giving Dean a moment to respond. He studied her for a moment. Her hair was pulled back, in what Dean could see was trying to be a clean bun, but with taking care of the kids and dancing around the kitchen all day, she had a few fly aways. She probably didn't get a chance to go out much, he sighed, leading her to the kitchen he decided they were going to be friends.

"I'm sorry, I just keep going on and on, it's just I haven't been away from the kids for long. They've been home all summer, and this weather has just taken the worst kind of turn, you know?" Dean blinked. What question was he responding to again?

"Oh, uh, yeah, it was pretty bad on the way over." He said, eyes cast down. She leaned in, giving his arm a gentle pat. "I'm glad you guys made it here in one piece," She said with another smile. "So, school?" Dean frowned. He had to think of something to make it seem like dad didn't keep him there captive. He was quiet, probably for a minute too long. Shit, anything. He skipped a few grades, he had a horrible allergy to lockers, anything by this point.

"I stay home most of the time." He said. Her eyebrows went up in response. Shit. That was stupid. Bad choice of words, he would have had better luck with the lockers thing. "I-uh I have to take care of Adam, you know, can't just leave him home alone with a butter knife and a bunch of open outlets." Her eyes softened. He hadn't noticed how blue they were until then. That only seemed to make him more anxious. "I-I do work from home," He said, grasping straws now.

"You mean you're homeschooled?" She supplied.

Dean nearly wept in gratitude. He nodded his head quickly. Homeschooled, why didn't he think of that? "Yes, homeschooled." She waited a moment, wondering if he was going to fill anymore of the impeding silence. When he didn't she gave him a small smile, testing out the waters. 

"That's good to hear, why don't I help you start unloading some of the boxes in the kitchen?" Dean exhaled. Shit, this was exhausting having neighbors. He nodded in agreement and returned back to the box he had started this morning.

The two worked diligently for awhile, every now and again speaking to one another about nothing in particular. Dean decided he really liked her, she was very nice, and when she wasn't talking so fast, she told pretty interesting stories. They were nearly finished unpacking, only two boxes left when they hit a bump.

"Dean, could you hand me the box marked with all the glassware?" Dean nodded, making his way toward the two boxes, sitting side by side. One was marked 'silverware and glass,' and the other, 'glassware and other'. Dean carefully went back and forth between the two. Naomi was unraveling some plates at the table, not taking notice of Dean's struggle. He was both glad and annoyed at that. He didn't think he'd have to explain this so soon. He had hoped to avoid it while they were here.

His hands found one another, wringing them together as he tried to read them once more. It looked like they both had what they needed. Would she laugh if he grabbed the wrong box? Would she think he was stupid like dad?

"Um..." he started. God how would he explain what the hell was taking him so long. Why couldn't she have grabbed the box herself? His palms were starting to sweat with the constant clutching and twisting. He felt his face burning with shame. The letters were doing that thing again, where they didn't make sense and jumbled together. Right as he felt tears fill his eyes a small hand found his. He turned, looking down and finding Sammy looking up at him. His eyes were filled with something that looked like worry. He knew Dean was upset, he could tell from the couch, but he hadn't been paying attention.

"Mama, what is it?" He asked quietly. Dean looked back to the boxes, Naomi was still focused elsewhere, and for that he was thankful. He rubbed his hands once more before looking back at Sammy. Kneeling down beside him, he leaned in closely.

"Which one says 'glassware'?" He asked. His eyes couldn't look back up at Sam's, he didn't want to see the pity in them. Sam's hand landed on Dean's shoulder. He pulled him into a hug, his arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders, face close to his neck as he whispered, "the one on the left mama." Dean clutched him tightly, nodding in understanding.

"Thanks baby." He said, slowly releasing him and getting to his feet. He bent down to grab it, taking notice of the pout on Sam's face. He rolled his eyes, setting the box down and waiting for the inevitable. Sammy's arms crossed over his chest, "I'm not a baby." Dean let out a small laugh in reply. He gave him a shove back toward the living room, and returned to lifting to box up and over to the awaiting table. Naomi's eyes were on him now, having seen them embrace in a gentle hug. She had wished her boys could get along like that. 

"You two are just so sweet, my boys could learn a thing or two from you guys." She said as she cut open the freshly presented box. They worked through the last two boxes, having finished filling the cabinets and drawers to Dean's wishes. He was happy, this was a really nice kitchen, he would have plenty of space to make dinner for the boys, they could eat breakfast at the bar. Dean paused, they could get chairs for the other end. It had really nice potential. Naomi seemed to take notice of his eyes traveling around the room.

It looked a lot like her when she had moved into her home. She wanted to make it so nice for the kids, and she could see him looking back between the two on the couch and around the rest of the main area. Her heart waned in her chest. He was trying to build a little nest for his brothers, that was just too sweet. She wanted to bring up a suggestion, something he could do to quicken the process before school started back up, when she had remembered what he had said earlier. Homeschooled? She was curious, mainly because she had seen him earlier, trying to figure out which box was the correct one, but she hadn't wanted to bring it up.

At that, an idea crept into her head. "Dean?" He turned, a gracious smile already burning his cheeks. "Yes ma'am?" He asked with a bit of a drawl.

"There's no need for that, Naomi is fine, but I had a suggestion, if you wouldn't mind." She began, trying to tread lightly. Dean's eyebrows quirked up in interest. "Anna, I have her at home, mainly waiting until she's old enough to go to school like the boys, and she gets awful lonely. Turns out I'm not very good at entertaining her." She slowed, trying to let the next words come out as carefully as she could make them. 

"You know, now that there's someone around her age in the neighborhood, I wouldn't mind having him over while the boys were at school." Dean stared at her, eyebrows having dropped throughout the conversation. He didn't seem angry or upset in anyway, if anything he looked confused. Exactly what she had been trying to avoid.

"You mean, so I could...go to school?" He asked, his voice seemed so small then. He looked nervous, but at the same time his eyes had widened, half in hope and half in desperation that she was telling the truth. If he could go to school, maybe he would have a better chance at a future.

"Well, I don't see why not. And I wouldn't need any form of compensation, Anna is real shy and she has the hardest time making friends." By this point she would have said Anna needed Adam in order to breathe, anything to get that poor boy back to school. If the struggle between the boxes was any indication, Dean hadn't been in school for awhile. Dean turned, eyes falling on Adam, before landing on her face once more.

"I-I mean, you really wouldn't have to, I could, um, I could ask dad if he'd be willing to help out." Naomi gave him a firm shake of her head. "Oh, no I can't have that, you'd be doing me a favor, really. And if you'd like I could talk to him myself." She said. Dean's eyes nearly jumped from his skull. He didn't want her anywhere near his father, let along have a conversation about his least favorite son by herself.

"No!" He jumped, Sam and Adam turned to look at the two of them, wondering why the hell Dean was yelling. Dean cleared his throat, "I'm sorry, didn't mean to jump out like that, but um, maybe it would be better if I did, dad isn't all that comfortable talking with people he doesn't know."

"Okay, well just let me know what he says, okay honey? I think I'd better get back to the kids, barely gone a few hours, I'm surprised I haven't heard the firetrucks coming down the street." She escorted herself to the door, Dean smiling nervously at her as she opened the door, letting it shut gently behind her.

Shit.

Why was he so nervous? Everything was fine, maybe John wouldn't care if he went back to school, he had said more than once he was tired of Dean's dumbass not being able to read anything. Yeah, this was a good thing. Adam could get more exposure to some kids his age, Sammy wouldn't have to read things to him anymore, and John wouldn't yell at him when he couldn't read the road maps. As he finished gathering stray papers, empty boxes and worn bubble wrap, he had talked himself into it.

* * *  
When John had finally gotten home, Dean had already sent both boys to bed, not really noticing if they went to their separate rooms or Dean's. (It was Dean's room. He noticed.) He was still shifting around the furniture in the living room when the front door opened. John wasn't drunk, so that was a plus. But that also meant his insults hurt more. He stopped his third cycle of the moving the couch, eyes barely meeting John's as he greeted him.

"There's some leftovers in the fridge if you're hungry. Naomi stopped by again." John's head picked up at that. A neighbor peeking in meant that the house would have to look more presentable. Less questions the better.

"What'd she want?" He grunted as he stalked through the living room, kicking off his boots haphazardly. He was glad that there were less boxes cluttering the floors now, meant he'd have an easier time getting to his room drunk. He found a plate in the fridge, right where Dean had said, like a good son. When Dean remained silent, John turned his attention back on him.

"Well, um, s-she wanted to know if, uh," John sighed heavily. "Spit it out, I'd like to go to sleep sometime."

"Oh, um, well, she had said her daughter was having a hard time making friends," he wasn't looking at John anymore, he knew if he did, he'd cave. He would give up this entire risk and just end up with a black eye for wasting John's time. "She had said Adam was really sweet and she'd like them to spend time together. Like...when Sammy went to school...and maybe...when I, um, went to school." The last part nearly died from his lips. John didn't speak, he was thinking it over in his head. If Dean stayed home that would raise a lot of questions, he couldn't say he was homeschooled, mainly because John didn't give two shits if he learned anything or not. That and anyone near Dean and a book would know that fucking moron couldn't read for shit.

He'd have more work taking care of the boys and his homework though. Plus there was the whole parent-teacher thing he didn't want to go to. But, if the neighbor lady was willing to watch Adam free of charge, he'd take it.

"She say anything about paying her?" Dean perked up, a hopeful smile gracing his lips. "No sir, she said she wouldn't want to impose, plus it's more for her daughter than anything else." He chewed on the thought for another minute.

"You'll keep on top of your chores?" Dean was quick to nod his head. "And you'll keep your grades together? I don't want to have to speak to another teacher about how fucking stupid you are." Dean was so excited with the chance that John would actually agree, all of his remarks rolled right off him. "Yes sir I promise."

"Fine. But I hear one word, I mean it, even if it's from your janitor, you're done." Dean seemed to calm down at that. He could do that, it would take a lot of practice, he would definitely need some help, Sammy could only show him so much. "Okay, I promise, not one word." He finished, eyes determined.

"All right, now go the fuck to sleep, I'm tired of trying to guess where you'll move the couch to next."


	8. A teacher

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean goes to Naomi's and asks Castiel to help him learn how to read.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for all the angst and whatnot, I promise they have a happy life. Fics where Dean has trouble reading always interest me, mainly because with all the trauma that happened in such an important time for Dean, there had to have been some negative effects.

It was the start of a new day, Dean was lugging a tired Sammy and a fidgety Adam over to the neighbors. This was the first time he had ever brought the boys over willingly to someone else's house.

He waited a moment, trying to hype himself up before lifting a hand to knock. This was a stupid idea, really, what if Castiel didn't want to help him? It was a lot to ask, especially when he was still on break. Plus he hadn't looked so interested in aquainting himself with the boys. Maybe he thought they were too messy looking, or seeing dad deterred them. He had hoped not, he really wanted someone on his side when he entered school for the first time again.

Sammy seemed to notice his inner turmoil, taking the situation into his own hands, he reached forward and knocked quickly. Dean almost flinched back at the sudden noise, looking down at his hand, he swore he wasn't the one who knocked.

"Mom, you weren't going to, so I did." Sam said as Gabriel opened the door. His eyes landed on Sam, a smirk finding it's way across his cheeks.

"Well hello, what do I owe the honor of hosting you fellows?" Sam fought the urge to roll his eyes, this kid was weird.

"Oh, Naomi had said something about Adam meeting Anna, and I figured it would be nice for Sam to get out of the house too." He felt Sam's eyes glaring at him. Instead of ratting him out, though, Sam sighed. Mama had told him what this was really about, so he would just have to suck it up around the kid. Anything for mama.

"Mom isn't home right now, but you guys can come in. I'm sure Anna is bored. Cassie is in the back, reading some fancy book or another." He said, stepping aside and granting them admittance.

Dean knelt down in front of Adam and Sammy, a hand on each of their shoulders. "Will you be okay if I just go outside and talk to Cas for a minute?"

Adam nodded, not really paying attention, his eyes seemed to be focused on the toys behind him in the living room. He hadn't seen this many toys before. At least he had Sam's attention. Sam did his 'I'm a big boy, look at my puffed out chest' thing and gave Dean a nod.

He nodded, letting Gabe take the lead on showing Adam where Anna was, and walked toward the back door. He gently pulled the door open, if his hands shook while he did, he didn't notice. Once the door was wide enough, he poked his head through the opening.

Castiel's eyes looked up after finding a stopping point. He had undoubtedly heard the door opening. His eyes met Dean's with a quirk of interest. Dean let the rest of his body follow his head toward him.

"Hey, sorry to bother you, I just had a quick question about school if that was okay." Castiel gave him a small smile and nodded. He moved his legs from their space on the bench, allowing Dean room to join him.

Dean took the seat and sat there for a moment. His hands rubbed away any nervousness on his thighs, not really taking notice of Cas's eyes, following his antics. He didnt look up while he spoke, God this was going to be embarrassing.

"Um, I know you don't really know me, so you don't have to help if you don't want, I'm sure you have other things to do than help me. I mean its not a big deal, Sammy could always go back to helping me, and I'm sure there are people at the school that can help. I just didnt want to get there and not know anything so soon. You know?" His hands were rubbing now with a more rough and grounding pressure. He couldn't stop trying to avoid the main reason why he needed help.

"Dean?" Cas spoke up beside him. His hand was resting above one of Dean's wrists, wary on if he should touch him or not. Dean nodded, as Castiel's hand landed softly on his wrist, Cas smiled.

"If you wanted help with schoolwork, I'd be more than happy to assist you. I understand the disadvantages of moving, especially on your academic career, and I'd like to help you get caught up." Dean's body sagged in relief. His hands stopped their path on his thighs and he nodded his thanks.

But now was the hard part.

"Um, Cas, there's something else." Cas leaned in, not seeming to care about the nickname Dean picked up.

"I really appreciate you helping with catching up, jusit's just, um, well...I-I..." he was getting nervous again. It was so hard to actually admit that he was stupid. This whole trip was dumb, he shouldn't have risked it.

"Dean? Are you all right?" God he hated that question, it almost always brought tears to his eyes. He didn't look up to reveal them, instead keeping his eyes focused on a stray string along the seam of his jeans.

"Cas, if I tell you something, can you promise me not to tell anyone else? I know we don't know each other that well, but I'd really like to be friends."

"Of course Dean, whatever you tell me will be kept in strict confidence." Dean smiled weakly in thanks. He took in a deep breath, a good start. As he exhaled, the words and the shame left with it.

"I can't read."

There was a silence, he could feel Castiel's eyes on the side of his face. It took him all of his strength to look up. He wanted to see if he was going to get laughed at or worse, disgusted with.

"Okay."  
Dean's eyebrows pulled together in confusion. "Okay? Aren't you gonna, like, ask questions or tell me I'm stupid?" It was Castiel's turn to frown.

"Dean, I would never betray you like that, you had asked to keep this between us. Something I figured meant a lot to you. Which, I can see how it does, but it's nothing to be ashamed about. Lots of people have a difficulty reading." Dean's hand found it's way into his other, a habit he still hadn't noticed himself. Cas was quick to pick up on it though.

"So you'll help me?" He asked. Cas smiled at him, something Dean realized he wanted to see more of. Cas' whole face seemed to light up.

"Of course I can," he paused, looking down at the book in his lap. It was such a thick book, especially compared to the books he had been trying to read. "Would you like to try some now?"

Though he wanted to lie, say he didn't have time today, tell him some bullshit about having to finish unpacking. And while that was true, he knew the sooner he started would be the better. He took in another deep breath. 

"Okay, sure, but...um, could you start? That's how Sammy does it...he reads first so I can, um, follow along." His face was burning red. It was hard admitting that his baby brother had to help him. He almost turned toward his berating thoughts when Cas's voice pulled him back. 

"That's fine Dean, whatever way you're comfortable with." And so he began.


	9. Getting Back on Track

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> School is starting, and for the first time in two years, Dean is going with Sam.

It had only been a week of meeting up with Cas, learning at his own pace, and Cas was a great teacher. He was so kind and patient. He even got Dean to read a few sentences by himself, without Cas taking the lead. Anytime a word looked too difficult, Cas would pause, tell him to write it out on a piece of paper and what he thought it meant, then he would give him the definition, and ask him to rewrite it. That seemed to be helping a lot too.

The only hard part was the letters. They occasionally did that thing, the mixing up and it drove him crazy. He wanted to be good for Cas, show him how good of a teacher he really was, but just sometimes, like today, he was getting frustrated.

"Cas, stop, I don't get it." Dean breathed, his eyes glared down at the ground. He felt stupid, which is difficult, because Cas never made him feel like that, but today Cas had wanted to try a different book, something harder. Cas sat forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he tried to catch Dean's expression. Some days Dean looked more tired than others, he used that as a gauge on how far he could push him. Today Dean didn't appear tired, but more...sad. He could feel the frustration emitting from Dean, it was enough to make him want to quit for the day.

Dean never told him why he had such a hard time with reading. There were sometimes when Dean would read a sentence aloud, letters seeming to have switched places under his eye, and Cas would have to correct him. He didn't know if he was doing a good job, he hoped he was. Dean had always seemed comfortable under his instruction, but there was something missing. He had brought a different book today, this one was one of his favorites about bee colonies. Perhaps it was the amount of scientific words in it that deterred him.

"Would you like to try again?" He asked calmly. Dean sat there for a moment, eyes traveling from the book in his hands back to the ground. This was no use, they only had two weeks before the school year began, and he was still stumbling.

"Cas...maybe we should just stop. If I don't get it now, I probably won't get it later." He got to his feet. "Sorry for wasting your time." 

It took all of Castiel's restraint not to tackle Dean to the ground. He wasn't a stupid kid, he really wasn't, he was kind and had a lot of interesting ideas when they read about something new. If it was about technology Dean seemed to understand better, he had said something about his love of cars, but cooking also interested him.

Cas got to his feet as well, catching Dean's wrist as he made a move toward the backdoor. "Wait, I have an idea. If you don't get this next book, then we can stop." Cas scurried past him, steeling into his mother's collection of cookbooks. Dean sat outside, hand rubbing his face tiredly. He wanted to tell Cas to just leave it, there was no use in trying to teach someone like him.

But some part of him, the really secretive part that rarely came out, told him he should stay. He deserved something in life, if this was it, then he could have it and more. As Cas came back through the door, the screen hissing closed, he had a wary smile on his face. Dean sat up, trying to catch what he held behind his back. He waited until he was fully seated beside him once more, body practically thrumming with energy. Hopefully this would be the one, the one book that Dean would understand beyond everything else. He held it out toward him, eyes carefully watching for any negative emotion on his face as he tried to read the title.

"E-everyday Cooking with...with M-mom?" Cas nodded in approval. Dean's insides turned, had Cas heard Sammy or Adam calling him that? Shit, would he tell John? Would he think they were weird for that?

"It's my mother's favorite book, you had said you enjoyed coking, so I figured you might like this one." He paused, watching something that looked like relief pass over Dean's face. He believed Dean would accept, but for an extra incentive he let out, "there's also a recipe for apple pie".

Dean was silent for a moment, he didn't look as frustrated as he did before, and Castiel dared to hope he would accept. "Pie?" Dean didn't look up from the cover of the book, but Castiel knew what he was saying. He wanted to give it a try. He almost wept with relief. God, he was really worried that Dean wouldn't want his help anymore.

A part of Cas felt sad for Dean, but another part was starting to enjoy their moments together. Aside from his small group of friends, including his little brother, Cas hadn't been the best at making friends. Perhaps Dean could change that. Cas watched as Dean's eyes danced over the first page, a picture of some breakfast casserole. The way his face lit up brought a smile to his own. He was a good person, he should have the opportunity to this like everyone else.

"Cas? Did you hear me?" His eyes lifted to Dean's, when had they dropped to his lips? Castiel shook those thoughts away, giving Dean his full attention.

"I said, if we're gonna read the whole book, we'll need snacks. I'm getting hungry just looking at these pics." Dean said once more.

"Of course Dean, anything." Castiel got to his feet, wandering off back toward the kitchen, he found his brother perched up on the counter staring intently at him. Pointedly ignoring his kid brother, he rummaged around the pantry, trying to find something Dean might enjoy, when Gabe spoke up.

"Getting a snack for you and your boooyfriend?" Nearly bumping his head on a shelf, Cas spun around and gave his brother a stern glare. "He's not my boyfriend, Gabriel, you will do well to remember that." Stalking away, hands carrying various chips and candies Gabriel had yet to sneak into, he heard his brother once more.

"Whatever you say Cassie."


	10. The First Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Its Dean's first day back at school

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really enjoy reading all of your messages, I'll be honest this is my first time writing something of this nature. I'm a writer, but I've never tried fanfic and was like, fuck it, might as well check all the blocks. But all of your feedback is really nice and I love hearing your guys reactions.

Adam was dragging his feet this morning. Dean understood, he hadn't been ready to be awake this early in the morning either, but he had barely been able to sleep he was so excited.

His energy had nearly cost him though, while making breakfast, John came into the kitchen, glaring daggers at Dean's cheerfulness. After so long of not finding a reason to smile aside from his kid brothers, he couldn't help but thrum with joy now. He was doing it. He was going to go back to school. This was something that was his, that would hopefully have his name on it one day.

It was something he could be proud of. And as Sammy came bouncing into the kitchen, Dean realized something. Him getting an education was something that Sam could be proud of too. He wouldn't have to be ashamed that his big brother, or his mom, was some school reject that didn't know how to read.

But even that wasn't true anymore. He was doing just fine in the reading department. So when John stared Dean down over their plates of scrambled eggs and toast, Dean surprised even himself. He didn't look away.

"The hell are you so happy for?" At that, Dean's eyes dropped down to his plate. Well...it was the little steps that mattered. He had almost stood up for himself, but he figured perhaps he had already made his point enough. He told John a quiet 'fuck you, because I can be' in his head. Ignoring his question in reality.

John grumbled something beneath his breath and returned to his breakfast. After that, the morning went much smoother. Dean had finished getting himself ready, pausing frequently to help Sam and Adam, but he finished.

He inspected himself in the mirror. For once he was standing upright, as proud of himself as he had been for a long time. His eyes glanced down at the cabinet beneath the sink. He nodded. Yes, those days were past him. He was going to do this, take the boys from John and go as far away from him as he could.

"Mama?" Sam was standing in the reflection of the mirror, turning to address him, he noticed Sam's hands twisting nervously. Instantly his mother instincts kicked in and he was kneeling in front of him, hands on his shoulders.

"What is it Sammy?"

"What if-if dad doesn't l-let you finish? Who will walk me to school?" Dean smiled. Pulling Sammy into a hug, he felt so much love for him at that moment. Fuck everyone else's opinions or whatever nonsense John spewed. Sammy was his, he had raised him, and no one was going to tell him otherwise.

"I'll walk you to school for everyday until you graduate college. I don't care if I have to carry you through snow, protect you from the rain, or personally fan you on hot days. Nothing will stop me from making sure you make it to and from school. Even if I dont get an education, one of us deserves it, so I'll make sure it's you. Okay baby?"

Sam was silent, eyes filling with emotion before pulling Dean into a tight embrace.

"Okay mama."

As John headed off to work, Dean had collected all the boy's stuff, and headed over to Cas'. Adam, still sluggish from sleep, had his arms around Dean's neck, head tucked into his shoulder as they walked across the lawn. Sam was tight by Dean's side, hand holding his so firmly, like he was afraid someone could take him away at a moment's notice.

Before they had even reached the door Naomi was pulling it open, a smile wide on her face as she took in the three boys. Before they had even expected it, a flash blinded their eyes, the sound of Naomi's camera signaling a candid.

"Sorry, you all just looked so cute!" She waved them in, making enough room for Dean to squeeze by.

Anna was sitting in their dining room, having found herself busy drawing something he couldn't see from the main hallway. It sounded quiet in the house, which surprised Dean to no end, mainly because in the past three weeks he had known the Novaks, Gabe was not one to enjoy silence. Naomi seemed to notice his searching eyes and signaled him to follow her. Setting Adam down on the couch, he gave Sam's hair a ruffle before following after.

She had led them out to the backyard, where both Cas and Gabe had found themselves. They were standing by a slowly growing tree, it was near Cas' height, and each had a hand on a branch, there heads bowed. He turned, eyes raised in question, but Naomi shook her head. She offered him a seat on the bench castiel and he shared during their lessons. She waited until they were both situated.

"Their father planted that tree before Anna was born." He turned, noticing a look of sorrow fall over her. It wasn't something he enjoyed. She usually was a very peaceful lady, a calm smile on her lips as she continued.

"He died a few years ago, Castiel had just started middle school, and he was out here before he had even eaten breakfast. Said he had to talk to dad before he went to school. It's something they do now before every school year. Sometimes Anna will come out, but today she said 'daddy is tired, I'll talk to him tomorrow'." 

She laughed. "I dont know where she comes up with these things, but whatever makes her happy."

The boys had finished their little talk, both turning and finding a crowd watching them. Gabriel, for once didn't look like he was going to make a crude comment. They gave the two small smiles before entering the house.

"Well, I had better get their bags together." She said, sending him a wink before heading after them.

Dean sat out there for a moment, wondering why she hadn't told him to come along for school, when he realized something. It made his heart warm and he couldn't help but turn back and look at her. She was already inside by that point, so he stood up hesitantly.

Did she really like him enough for him to be apart of this? He ventured toward the tree. The branches were just starting to grow bright with dark green leaves. It had a thick base, it was no oak tree, but it looked like it was on it's way to becoming a beautiful thing.

Gently, he raised his hand, caressing the closest branch within his reach. If it had happened to be the same on Cas had touched, no one noticed.

"Um...hello, uh Mr. Novak. I'm going to be honest. I've never spoken to a tree before. Im not sure what I should say." He was quiet. Listening to the encouraging breeze going through the leaves.

"I guess I could say thank you. You have a wonderful family. They've done more for me in the month I've know them...than by own father has done in my entire life. Thank you, for letting me share them with you."

He gave the tree one last gentle brush, turning and heading back toward the house. He nearly jumped out of his skin, Castiel was right there waiting for him. Shit. He had probably heard what he had said. He probably didn't want him touching his Dads tree uninvited.

Dean tried to stammer out an excuse, but before he could, cas cut him off. The corners of his lips peeking up.

"I think he likes you." He said.

Dean swallowed all of his tension.

"I think I like him too."


	11. Reunited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's first few times back to school.

It was difficult, to say the least, Cas really tried to help him. But they didnt have the same classes, and that was frustrating Dean to no end.

At least Cas had introduced him to his group of friends. They had all seemed really nice. He even had some classes with one or two. He was really starting to like that girl Charlie, she was really funny. They shared science together, which he wanted to thank the gods personally for, apparently Charlie was some type of genius when it came to the subject.

Anytime Dean got lost during the lesson, Charlie would just...help him through it. Like, it blew his mind. She actually wanted to see him succeed and didn't think he was dumb for needing help.

The first month was hard, it was hard juggling school and then coming back to take care of the boys, but he did it. There was nothing that was going to prevent him from finishing school now.

Charlie and he were walking down the hall, trying to make it to their fifth period, when a hand fell on Dean's shoulder. He was pulled to a stop and nudged into the wall of lockers.

"New kid," an angry faced kid sneered. Charlie's hands were on his arms, trying to pull them from his body.

"Alistair, leave him alone. We have to get to class." The kid, Alistair, glared at her before shaking her hands from him.

"He can speak for himself." Dean felt a frown working across his face. Yes, he was more than capable of telling this guy to fuck off. But, before he could Cas' voice growled out behind him. 

"Hands off Alistair." He paused, eyes leaving Dean's face as a smile came across his lips. He turned, addressing Cas, almost laughing at the defensive position he was in.

He looked ready to lunge at him, his teeth bared in anger. It was no secret, the two had hated each other. Once they had been friends, but that had been years ago before Alistair had fallen off the track and became a complete ass.

"This your boyfriend here Cassie?" He said, shoving Dean into the lockers. Cas took a step forward, Dean had never seen him look so angry. The blue in his eyes looked cold, not like its usual warmth when they read together. This wasn't Cas, Dean's slowly growing best friend, this was Castiel, Dean's fierce protector.

It made Dean's inside flutter at the thought. Dean brought his attention back to the two staring one another down in the hall. A crowd had gathered. Something Dean hadn't noticed until a familiar figure came breaking the crowd apart. Principle Roman.

Shit.

Dean was weaseled his way out of Alistair's tight grip and scurried off into the crowd. He couldn't let Roman find out he was a part of this. Even if he was the one getting harrassed, he would call John.

Dean stood, hiding behind a few other onlookers, and he saw Cas' eyes searching for him. When they met, Dean was shaking his head, practically begging Cas not to let Roman know. After a moment, he seemed to understand.

"What's going on here?" He asked, feigning interest. Alistair was the first to answer.

"Nothing, just catching up with an old friend." He said, nodding in Cas' direction. Though he was still angry, Cas nodded in agreement.

"Yes, reaquainting ourselves after such a long summer." He said, eyes mentally ripping Alistair apart. Roman rolled his eyes, waving everyone away with his hands.

"Do it elsewhere, class is beginning, I suggest you all find your way to your classrooms." He said dismissively. Dean didnt need to be told twice, he began hurrying off down the hall, when another hand stopped him. He spun around, livid.

"Look-

Cas was staring down at him. Had he always been taller? Dean felt small just standing near him. Perhaps it was because they usually sat beside one another, hunched over books.

"Are you all right?" Dean nodded dumbly.

"Yeah, uh thanks for not saying anything back there. Dad would have killed me if I had gotten in trouble this early in the school year." Cas' head tilted to the side in question.

"Its nothing Cas, just forget it, but thanks for...for standing up for me. No ones ever really done that before." He looked up, eyes relaxing in the calmest blues. Cas was quiet for a moment, when he deemed Dean to be telling the truth, he nodded.

"If you say you are all right, then I believe you." They stood there, his hand still heavy on Dean's, clutching his upper arm protectively.

"We should get to class."

That seemed to break the spell, Cas' eyes cleared and he gave Dean a nod in agreement. They broke apart and left their separate ways. Each sent a look back over their shoulders, trying to commit the moment in their memories.

Had he felt that thing too? Dean shook his head, finding his seat and dropping into it with a huff. Yeah, school was going to be hard.


	12. According to Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's schedule that he lives by, day to day, in order to keep school and home balanced.

Each morning began as soon as his eyes peeled open. Some mornings he would wake with either Adam's foot in his neck or Sammy's hair in his mouth. Some days he woke up in bed alone.

He didn't like those days.

Getting out of bed, mindful of the boys, he would dress, and then start on breakfast. After breakfast, wake the boys, which was always a battle. Adam hates mornings, his little hair sticking up in different directions, eyebrows furrowed in displeasure. Sammy didn't fight it as much, woke up basically with a smile and a can-do attitude.

He preferred Adam's mood over Sam's. No one should be that happy at six in the morning.

After making sure both the kids were dressed, he would leave a plate for Dad in the microwave and make sure the boys finished everything off their plates.

Piling their backpacks on, he would make the journey over to Naomi's, drop Adam off, and Cas and Gabriel would walk with them to school. Thankfully both the elementary school and the middle school were close, otherwise Cas and Dean would be screwed.

After hugging Sam and telling him to have a good day, Sam's face always tinting red in embarrassment. He would accompany Cas to their first period.

English with Cas, math with Kevin, history with Ash, gym with Jo, and science with Charlie. His last class of the day was a study hour, one he shared with a boy named Victor. Cas hadn't know him, he was Dean's first friend he had made by himself. It was nice.

After class, he would find Cas, the two would walk over to the elementary school, find the boys, and walk home. Some days Gabe would talk the entire journey home, nonstop, about what he had for lunch, what class he didn't like, why his teacher should be abducted by aliens. It didn't matter. It was like he didn't know how to handle silence.

Sometimes Sam would reach over, squeeze Dean's hand and roll his eyes dramatically. Others, he would listen intently.

Today Gabe had been talking about how their apple juice had been watered down, he was sure of it, when they came up to the neighboring houses. Naomi was standing on the porch, arms crossed and face full of concern. Anna was standing behind her, arms wrapped tightly around her mother's knees.

Dean felt his stomach drop. Where was Adam?

"Dean-  
Naomi began, but by that point he was already panicking. He watched her eyes flit over to their house, and giving Sam a shove toward Naomi, he ran.

Up the small steps, thudding over the wooden slats of the porch, and jerking the door open. He nearly tripped in his haste to get into the house he almost missed his drunken father.

John was sitting on the couch, slumped down, and angry. Even sitting he was swaying with the amount of alcohol in his system. His grip on the beer in his hand was loose, enough to make Dean worry about staining the carpet.

"T'hell have you been?" Dean's eyebrows dropped. How drunk was he that he forgot where he and Sam had been all day? Too focused on his thoughts, he didn't see the bottle flying toward his head.

It wasn't a hard enough throw to shatter the glass against his temple, but it was enough to send him reeling back. He held onto his face with a tight hand.

"Neighbor says Adam's sick, called me from work to come pick 'm up. Little shit threw up right on me. You were supposed to take care a him." John got to his feet, walking in a daze to his own room. "Doin' a shit job Dean." He said over his shoulder.

Dean stood there, holding onto his bruising forehead for another moment. He waited until he heard the sound of John's door clicking closed. As soon as he did, he was scrambling around the house, trying to find Adam.

He hadn't been in his room, or Sam's, or even Dean's. By the time he went through their rooms twice, he ran passed the bathroom, only to stop in his tracks.

The cabinet.

Dean nearly ripped the door off its hinges getting into the bathroom. He instantly dropped to his knees, eyes stuck on the little space between the sink and ground.

John's belt. It was wrapped around the handles, tied clumsily from John's drunken stupor.

"A-addie?" Dean called out.  
Silence answered him. It seemed to go on for eternity. And then, a little sniffle answered.

"Mama?" Adam called back, voice thick with emotion. Dean couldn't scramble fast enough, ripping the belt from the doors and slamming the doors apart. Adam was curled into a little ball, tear tracks stained on his cheeks. His face was pale, he figured it was from whatever ailment affected him. He was shivering and that was enough to have Dean reaching in and pulling him into his arms.

He cuddled him close, rocking him like he did when he was younger, shushing him the entire time. He looked down, slumping in relief when he noticed Adam hadn't had an accident.

"You okay baby?" Adam didn't reply, only buried his face into Dean's neck more. Dean nodded. They were going to be okay, as long as they had each other.

He stood, still holding Adam to his chest, and carried him to his own room. Dean knew his own room was too close to John's. So he climbed into Adam's little toddler bed, not caring if Adam's knees were pressing into his chest. He continued shushing Adam, gently running a hand down his back until he fell into some sick induced sleep.

He waited, listening to Adam's little huffs of breath next to his throat. He didn't think he could ever hate someone. Let alone his own father, but he did. He crawled out of bed, careful not to jostle him too much. He closed his bedroom door, locking it so no one could try to grab him, and by no one, he obviously meant John.

He had been pacing back and forth in the living room, when he suddenly found himself stomping off into the backyard. He waited, trying to figure out what the hell he was doing, when he saw Mr. Novak's tree.

Before long, he was climbing over the fence, wooden edges scraping across his abdomen. He didn't register dropping to the ground. His mind set on trying to find out what the hell a real father was supposed to act like.

He had dropped down in front if the tree heavily, eyes staring intently at the roots. Why was he such a piece of shit? Why couldn't Dean just have one thing, without having to raise two kids by himself. That's what a dad was supposed to do. Not a son. For the second time in his life, he didn't know if he was enough, enough for either boy to look up to.

"Mama?" Dean shook his head. Trying to hide the bruise blooming across his temple. Sam didn't need another reason to be upset.

"Why don't you go wait with Gabe?" Cas' voice suggested. Dean's shoulders bristled. There was no hoping Cas hadn't heard that.

The screen door to the back hissed shut, signaling Sam's departure. Only then did Cas make his way over to Dean. Dean's head was down, eyes staring fiercely away from Castiel. He sat down, eyes cautiously inspecting Dean's body. He seemed to have a few scratches, but what made him stop altogether was the irritated skin above his eyebrow.

"Dean," he said, surprising himself as he reached out, turning Dean's face toward him for further inspection. Dean didn't fight him, but he also didn't lift his eyes from the ground.

"I can't go to school anymore Cas."


	13. What are friends for?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean leaves school for a few days, but after rallying the troops, Cas convinces him to come back.

The first week home was terrible. John seemed to be in such a good mood that it only worsened Dean's. Adam clung to Dean, he never wanted to leave his room, he only ate his meals in the safety of his bedroom closet, and he would only come out to play when John was definitely gone.

Dean had learned the hard way why Adam wanted to be as far away from John as possible. On the third day, Dean had carried Adam into the kitchen to start some breakfast for Sammy. He had thought John had already left, but by the sound of the front door unlocking, he was wrong.

John came barging in, an unfocused frown on his face as he stalked past both boys to get back to his room. As soon as Adam spotted John, he froze. Dean turned off the stove at the warm feeling of liquid running down his side.

"Mama...c-can we go to-to bed now?" He shivered out. Well. Breakfast was done already. He set it aside, heart heavy with worry as he carried Adam back to his room. He had closed his eyes, his face didnt leave the space between Dean's shoulder and neck until the door was safely locked behind them.

It took nearly an hour to get him to eat something.

It was Saturday now, after having missed the entire week, Adam's health turning around on Thursday, Dean realized something. Laying on the floor of Adam's room, the boy curled up on his chest, he realized he didn't need school. He was perfectly fine. School was overrated.

Adam worked his way closer, which Dean hadn't thought was possible, when Sammy opened the door. Dean had given Sam the key to "their" room after that day in the kitchen.

Closing the door behind himself, giving the lock extra attention before turning, he crawled over to where the boys lay. Dean automatically opened his free arm out to him. Tucking himself close, he reached an arm around Adam and pulled him to the center of the older boys.

He didn't seem to mind, if anything he was calmer, with Sam's scent brushing his nose as he headbutt his chest. It was the early hours of the morning, Dean figured this week had been hard on Sammy because of how absent Dean was, it only made him cuddle closer to him now.

Sam's fingers ran little patterns up and down Adam's back. With the little light in the room, Dean couldn't tell what he was drawing, but Adam sighed into his chest, so Dean didn't mind.

"Mom?" Sam whispered. Dean looked down, Sammy's big eyes already locked on him. "Yes baby?" He waited for the inevitable pout, but as he stared down at his baby brother, none came. Like he actually missed being called a baby. Dean smiled, unable to fight it, as Sammy just continued to study his face.

"I don't want to go to school no more."

Dean nearly sat up. He felt his pulse skip a beat, heart tripping over the words. No. He couldn't. Sammy was the smart one. He was the one that was going to make it out of this, get a really good job, and make a name for himself in the world.

"No," was all Dean could manage.

And there was the pout.  
Just as he was about to speak up, correct his beliefs on his thoughts, there was a knock. It was a light one, very respectable and mindful for anyone sleeping. The knock wasn't on the front door either. It was directly on Adam's bedroom door.

That didn't make any sense. Dad wouldn't knock like that, he's never knocked like that in his entire life. It's his house and he gives a damn whose sleeping and whose awake. If he's awake, everyone else will be too. Of he's asleep and you aren't, you better shut the hell up and go to sleep. God forbid you mess with his rest.

"Dean?" A quiet voice called through the door. It was Cas. Of course it was, everyday after school he had been there, trying to convince Dean that Adam getting hurt wasn't his fault.

He had almost believed him too. But that all had changed the instant Adam had pissed himself in fear, just at seeing John's face. He knew that fear. He lived with it everyday. It had taken his voice, his opinion, nearly as fast as it had taken his mother.

Sam was looking at him, then down at the door, wondering if he would have to get the door himself. But Dean was shifting, gently pushing Adam more onto Sam as he slid out from beneath him. He got to his feet, staring at the door in disbelief. What would it take for Cas to understand?

"Mama, just listen to him, please." Sam said, his arms wrapping around Adam tightly. Dean looked up, the ceiling was something he rarely stared at, it always made his insides turn, but this time he was asking his mother for guidance. She would have known what to do.

Well, technically, she would have already done it, Dean would have been in school, and he and Sammy would have been raised as brothers. Dean looked down, Sammy's round eyes imploring him. He knelt down, giving both boys a gentle kiss on the forehead, he knew his answer.

He unlocked the door, careful of the hinges not to wake Adam as he nudged it open. As he closed it behind himself, he turned.

Cas stood there, face full of hope and nearly 18 other emotions. Relief seemed to be the top one showing. Dean had actually come out, he would finally listen to what he had to say. He watched Dean's eyes fall to the ground, jerking his head toward the back door. He followed willingly.

As soon as the two were outside, Dean sighed. That wasn't a good sign already.

"Cas-  
"No, Dean, before you say anything, there's some other people here to see you." Dean's eyebrows furrowed, trying to find the mystery people Cas spoke about.

"They're on the front porch, listen to them, please Dean, because they miss you. Just as much, if not more, than I." Cas said, his eyes looking anywhere but Dean's face as he said the last part.

"I-I, I don't think I can. Please Cas you got to understand. You don't know my Dad, I can't just leave Adam here." Cas sat down on the bench, pulling Dean down beside him.

"Dean, please, you have to listen to yourself. You won't be leaving Adam alone, my mother is perfectly capable of watching him while you are away. Anna misses Adam so much, she asks about him everyday. And my mother, she feels horrible, if she had known, she wouldn't have called John." He paused, looking to see if Dean was even listening. He had hoped, nearly prayed he was.

"I heard what Sam had called you." Dean sat up straighter, glaring down at Castiel. Challenging him to say something negative about his boys. Cas raised a hand, imploring Dean to settle, and listen to what he had to say.

"Those boys look up to you, see you as something not many boys get to be. Yes, I'll admit its a bit unorthodox, but they see you as their mother. And as a mother you have to show them nothing will stop you from providing them with a good life. You must teach them how to overcome John's putdowns. Otherwise, one day they may be the ones not attending school."

Dean sat there, mutely, thinking back to what Sam had said this morning. Had Dean not going to school really affected him that much? Was John hurting Sam's and Adam's educations? Cas was right. Mother or not, he wouldn't let anyone put his boys down like that.

Cas noticed the expression on Dean's face, changing from a defeated one, to that of a fierce warrior. At that, he stood, reaching a hand down to Dean. He led him through the house, gently opening and closing the front door.

Charlie was the first one there. She jumped at Dean, wrapping her arms around his neck, nearly squeezing the life out of him. As she pulled away, she punched his arm, a frown clearly written across her face.

"Don't you ever do that again, scared the shit out if us." Absently rubbing away the feeling, Dean found a smile breaking out across his face. Ash was leaning against one of the porch pillars, Victor was right beside Charlie, jumping on her worried train. Jo was smiling at Dean from the porch swing. He knew she had some choice words to say, but she waited, letting Dean take in all of his friends being so concerned for him.

Even Kevin looked torn up, he was standing off to the side, wringing his hands together as he waited his turn. When Charlie stopped to breathe, Kevin jumped in.

"Dean, if I had known, I would have tried harder to help you, in whatever class you needed help in. All you have to do is ask."

Dean stood there, eyes traveling across each friend, only to look down at himself. He hadn't realized he and Cas were still holding hands. It was nice. He had never had this many people looking out for him. He gave Cas' hand a gentle squeeze.

"All right," he said, a smile cutting into his cheekbones. "I'll go, but only if you shut up Charles. You're killing me." He said with a laugh. Charlie frowned, arms crossing over her chest defensively.

"Well I wouldn't have to if your butt was in your seat in science." Dean rolled his eyes. Friends. He had friends. He had people that actually cared about him. And he couldn't stop smiling at the fact.


	14. Adam's first day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean finishes the school year, Adam turns 5, signalling the start of his own schooling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adam is 5  
> Dean is 14  
> Sam is 10

The year had not been an easy one. It was difficult, Dean struggled through his final tests in each subject, growing tired of working at school, then having to come home and work until bedtime. Sam had been a help, he really seemed to understand Dean's struggle, especially when he had to survive that week without Dean fulfilling his every need. He loved helping Dean, they took turns taking care of Adam, Sam tried to help in the kitchen, but Dean only seemed to remember Sammy burning his hand, so he didn't prefer to cook with Sam in the same space. Adam found more comfort outside of his room, even returned to spending the day at Naomi's.

It was nice. It really was.

And then life came up and screwed Dean over. Again.

They were waiting, standing in the small office of Adam's new pre-school. Naomi had selected this one for Anna, it was the closest to the house and was within walking distance of the middle school. Adam was clinging to his legs, big crocodile tears already spilling from his eyes. He had already sent Sam off, to hurry off to school with Gabe. Cas had gone with them, aware of needing someone to watch after Sam. He trusted Cas, with his entire being, and it didn't surprise him as much as it probably should have.

"M-M-Momma," he was hiccuping through tears. Dean, looking up, prayed for assistance. "I-I don't wanna go!" He begged. He knelt down, shocked to find tears pooling in his own eyes as he stared down at his baby brother. Seeing Adam so sad always broke his heart. But this shouldn't have upset him this much.

"Buddy, calm down, Momma's gonna be right here when you get out. Okay? So will Sammy too, if that makes you feel better." He was rubbing the tears from his face. His cheeks were red with the effort of containing his next sob. What if he didn't come back, like daddy when he locked him in the bathroom? Adam brought his hands up, resting them on Dean's face, squeezing his cheeks together.

"Momma you have to come back. I-I don't wanna stay. What if they don't let me out?" Dean couldn't speak, his face squished together in silence. He was confused, but only for a moment, when he remembered the cabinet. He sighed, he had really thought they were getting passed that, that he would forget it, and soon. God knows he hated remembering his own time trapped under there, but Adam's he had been covered in his own vomit, that's much worse than urine.

Dean tugged him into his arms, hugging him tightly, like he never wanted to let go. And he didn't. He could spend the rest of his days just hugging both of his babies. He would die a happy man. He tucked his nose into Adam's soft neck. He still smelled like baby. He never knew how he had accomplished that, but he still carried that faint smell of baby wash.

"Baby, mommy has to go to school too, just like you. It'll be fun. Anna is in this class too. It'll be just like No-no's, but you can make more friends." Adam's fingers clutched into the folds of his shirt. He really didn't want to let go. If he was anything like Sammy, he would need a shove. He got to his feet, pulling a still fighting Adam up with him. His teacher was standing by the door, something he hadn't noticed until now. She hadn't seemed to have heard any of their conversation, probably thinking Dean was just a really good big brother. (Which he was, fuck you very much.) He looked into the classroom questioningly, and like she seemed to understand his questioning stare, she waved him in.

A few kids had already found the toys, dumping the entire contents of tubs and boxes onto the colorful carpet in the center of the room. Sitting patiently in one of the small chairs, sat Anna. Dean laughed. She and Cas were almost identical in their mannerisms. Hopefully she had a better education in movies than Cas did. His was just pitiful. But, they were working on it, Charlie nearly had had a heart attack when Cas had said he'd never seen Star Wars.

"Hey Banana," Dean began, kneeling down in front of her. She turned toward him, big eyes locked onto his face, then traveling over to the back of Adam's head.

"Addie?" She asked, head turning, trying to catch his face. Adam squirmed in his hold. He loved Anna, the two were slowly becoming best friends.

"No Banana, I don't wanna." Adam pouted out. He wrapped his legs around Dean's torso, intent on never letting go. At that Anna giggled. She got to her feet, circling around Dean until she found Adam's face. He tried his best to hide from Anna's big eyes, but it proved no avail. He looked up. Anna was closer than he expected and he couldn't fight back a laugh.

"See baby, Banana is here, you and her can have lots of fun until mommy comes back, okay?" None of the Novaks were phased by the boys calling Dean any derivative of Mom. Especially Naomi. He was expecting some type of chastising from her. A boy being called mommy, like he was trying to mess with the whole meaning of the word, but he should have known better. Naomi took it in stride, even referred to Dean as Adam and Sam's mom when they were all together. Asking things like, "Did mommy say that was okay?" or "Have you asked mom?"

It was nice. He could be this, to the boys, and people were okay with it. Well, most people. He didn't go announcing it to the rooftops that his baby brothers called him mom. But just his closest friends was enough. Except for the gang, they would flip, that he was sure of. They probably wouldn't care too much, but they would probably start calling him mommy too, and that would get annoying fast.

He was pulled away from his thoughts when Adam loosened his hold. He didn't dare move, hoping if he was still enough, Adam would probably think he was dead and move on. Hopefully to play with the blocks like the rest of the kids. No offense to the Novaks, but Anna looked like a dork waiting at the table.

Adam stared at him, face trying to be serious, or as serious as a five year old could manage. It made Dean's posture righten. If Adam wanted to have a serious conversation, he would grant that, no matter how old he was. Adam's hands went back to his cheeks.

"Promise you'll be here when schools over?" Dean nodded, no doubt ever crossing his mind. "You and Cassie will be here. Sammy and Gabe always mess with Banana an me. I want you and Cassie." Dean smiled. He believes he could work that out, Naomi could take the boys home and Cas and he could walk the kids home. Sure. He nodded again, as well as the hands shoving his cheeks together would allow.

"I promise," is what Dean had intended to say, but came out more as, "I pwamise." Adam waited a moment, continuing to study Dean's face. When he believed Dean to be telling the truth, he released his face. "Okay, but if you aren't here I'll be real sad."

Dean let out a small laugh, eyebrows connecting in concern. It sounded so sad and sweet coming from Adam's little voice. Yes, Dean was sure of it. He pwamised.

When Adam let go completely, Dean isn't going to lie, he wanted to pull Adam back into his arms. That was his baby, and he had just left him hanging to find some amazing toy to occupy his time. Thankfully Anna seemed to go with him. Hopefully he would be good for her as well, introduce her to new people. Naomi hadn't been lying when she had said she was shy. But it wasn't just shy, it was bordering anti-social.

"Mr. Winchester?" Dean stood, spinning deftly on his heel. Adam's teacher waiting with a smile in front of him. "It appears your father never finished the paperwork for Adam, he can stay for the day, I understand you and your father are busy people. If you bring it back at the end of the day, Adam can come back tomorrow." Dean nodded, taking the paperwork from her and barely glancing down at it before he was looking around for Adam.

No. John was not going to fuck this up. He didn't care if it got him a week in the hospital. John was signing these damn papers.

* * *

The day was slow, as it always seemed to be when there was something important going on. Dean was practically bouncing in his seat. This was the start of his highschool career and he was already ready to throw it down the drain fighting his father. As soon as the lunch bell rang, Dean jumped from his seat, giving no warning to a dozing Ash beside him as he booked it out of the room. He ran down the hall, weaseling his way past hoards of hungry prepubescent teens, and nearly ripped the handle from the main office's door off.

Squeezing inside, he scurried over to the secretary's desk, she was scribbling something down on a notepad, not paying Dean any attention. He was still thrumming with energy, growing more and more agitated as he waited for her to look up. She seemed surprised to see him, when she finally did grace him with awareness. She raised a brow toward him, not even offering him the courtesy of speaking.

"I need to call my dad at work, it's about my baby brother. Its really important." He practically shouted out. She sat back, eyes wide with surprise, and wordlessly passed the phone on her desk toward him. Having already memorized the plant's main phone numbers, he waited, being redirected and transferred three times before John's rough voice came across the line.

"T'hell you want boy?" Even sober he sounded belligerent.

"I need you to sign Adam's paperwork for pre-school, his teacher said you hadn't finished it. It needs to be signed by the end of the school day, so he can go back tomorrow." Dean had slowed down, knowing full well John hated when he spoke too quickly. Said it made him sound like a stupid squirrel. He waited patiently, listening to John grumble on the other end of the line.

"Just tomorrow? He can't go back on Wednesday if I sign these papers?" John asked. Dean's frown was clear, even to the secretary as she continued her indistinct scribbling. What the hell was he talking about? John grunted in displeasure.

"It was a joke son, maybe if you weren't so stupid you'd understand." Dean flinched at the comment. He really did hate sober John. "I'll sign the damn papers, I'm heading out now, stay in the stupid office. I know that ditz secretary don't do shit else. She can handle you sitting there for a few minutes." He grumbled.

Dean nodded, completely forgetting he was on the phone and not directly listening to John. Usually he didn't have the opportunity to speak this much.

"Yes sir." He said in reply, but by that point John had already hung up. Dean sighed, handing the phone over to the secretary and making his way toward an open seat. It took nearly half of lunch before John had made his way into the office. He didn't look happy by the looks of it either. Like this was such an inconvenience for him to actually take care of one of his sons. Dean stood, handing the paper over without a word. Snatching it from him, he read it over, rolling his eyes down at the last empty signature.

He jerked his head, signaling Dean to follow him out into the hall, away from listening ears. Dean did, casting a worried glance back at the useless secretary. Her eyes focused literally anywhere else but Dean and his father. They stood in the hall, the door closing with a gentle thud behind them. John scribbled his signature down and shoved the paper into Dean's chest.

"This, one fucking line, is what you wasted my time for? Fucking think Dean, you could have signed it yourself." He paused, eyes finally settling on Dean. "Or can you still not read?" Dean's eyes were cast down, unable to look into the hate swimming through his father's eyes. "No sir, I can read just fine." He said quietly. It was a risk. He didn't want John to think he was being a smartass by speaking out, but he didn't want him to think he was being a bitch and mumbling either. It was always a gamble even speaking to John. Which is why he rarely did.

He heard John snort. "Yeah, I'm sure. Take the fucking papers and get your ass back to class. Fucking useless." He said, turning and stomping out of the building. Dean sighed, suddenly exhausted with the effort of having such a lengthy conversation with John. He always did wonders on his self esteem as well. Right now he felt like a fucking moron.

It didn't help that when he turned, Alistair was standing off to the side leaning against a couple of lockers, sneering at him. His eyes traced Dean's body, something unsettling in the expression. Dean had been lucky enough not to encounter him alone again, always caught up with one of his friends, or Cas, but now he was out in the open. Like a weak little deer.

"So that's what it is." Alistair spoke up, lifting himself from the lockers he had probably broken into. Some poor little shit was about to find an empty locker by the next shift in the bell schedule. He stalked forward, eyes boring into Dean's as he settled up beside him. Cas had told Dean about the bad history between the two, had also said he was a year older than everybody. That thought seemed to be the one that made Dean take a step back.

"Well, where do you think you're going girly?" He said, slinking up once more. This time much closer. Dean cleared his throat, hand nearly crumpling Adam's paperwork as Alistair lifted a hand to caress his cheek.

The office hadn't had windows facing in this direction, it probably wouldn't have helped with that dumb broad not paying attention either. Dean felt nausea roll over him as Alistair's fingers brushed down his face, he seemed frozen, unable to pull away in disgust or even run off in fear. He was stuck, standing there, letting him touch him. His eyes had found their way together, clenched as if that would make him disappear.

"Aw, don't hide from me. C'mon Dean, I just want us to be friends. Don't you want that?" His hand had found it's way around Dean's throat, not pressing enough to halt his breath altogether, but it was enough to make him panic. As his eyes ripped open in fear, Alistair smiled threateningly down at him. Just as Dean thought he was done for, the secretary's phone rang, pulling them apart. Alistair seemed surprised, like he had forgotten they were even in school anymore. Like he had taken Dean somewhere else in his mind. That was enough to make Dean move. He shoved Alistair away from his chest and took off toward the lunch room.

He was surprised he remembered the layout this well. They had done the walkthrough of the highschool only a few days ago, but he seemed to remember it now, which he nearly cried out in relief at. He could hear Alistair laughing behind him. He didn't think he was following him, but that didn't make him stop. He didn't stop until he was slamming into the lunchroom, doors making a loud sound, basically signalling his arrival.

A few people turned to stare at him, mostly questioning why the fuck he looked so afraid. But the only thing that mattered was that Cas was there. He hadn't even seen him running up to him, but it didn't matter, because if Cas was there that meant he was safe. Cas was speaking to him, saying something that Dean couldn't understand, all he could hear was his own heart beat thundering in his ears, begging him to find some form of calm. Cas seemed to notice that, guiding him away from prying eyes and out of the lunch room. He pushed Dean into the first bathroom closest to the doors. As soon as they were in, he locked the door, checking under each stall, before returning to Dean's side.

Dean ended up on the ground, his head between his knees as he fought his strangled breath. Cas was right there beside him, shushing him the entire time and running a reassuring hand down his back. Yes, Cas' hand. That was enough to ground him. He'd much rather have Cas' hands on his body than Alistair's. Dean nearly coughed at that.

What the fuck was that?

Was he...thinking about Cas like...that? After Cas ran his hand down his back once more, Dean felt a shiver follow his path.  
Holy shit.  
He liked Cas.

"I-um I think I'm okay now." He said, finding the position no longer comforting his stomach. Cas removed his hand, something Dean instantly regretted. But, nonetheless, he sat up, letting Cas rake his eyes over his body, checking for any injuries or anything out of sorts. If he hadn't been looking, he probably wouldn't have noticed it. A fading red mark around Dean's throat. Like a hand print.

"Dean, are you all right?" He was leaning in, concept of personal space flowing right out the window, as he moved Dean's chin up. It didn't look like it would bruise, but Cas knew it was something he would never forget. The thought of someone putting their hands on Dean. DEAN?? Really? He was the nicest human being Cas had ever met, he was so compassionate and he loved his brothers to death. Why would anyone ever want to hurt him.

"Cas, its fine, just leave it." He said, pushing Cas' prying hands from his face. He knew if he told him, Cas would want to rip Alistair apart. And that was something Dean couldn't be involved in, someone fighting for his honor or some shit. He had been able to take care of himself just fine...Right? Instead of ignoring the suggestion, Cas lifted Dean's chin up once more.

"No Dean, I will not just 'leave it', I demand to know who thought they had any right in touching your body." Dean seemed to pull away, for a much different reason now. Talking down to him like that, demanding things Dean wasn't comfortable with saying. Just like John. Great. Dean had a crush on an asshole. Cas seemed to be following some of his train of thoughts, instantly pulling himself away and clearing his throat.

"I, um, I mean, I don't 'demand' you to tell me anything. I shouldn't have worded it like that, you are free to include me in or out of your personal life. I just-I, I worry about you Dean. I don't want you to feel like you owe anyone here anything because you're simply attending the same school as them. You're your own man. I'll just...I'll let you decide." He said, standing and taking a few steps away from Dean's curled up form.

He wanted to kick himself. Dean looked so small like that. He hated that he was the cause of that. He had scared Dean. God he was such a jerk.

"Cas, you don't need to go beating yourself up. Like I said, I'm fine," he paused. Was he really considering telling him? What if Alistair tried to get him alone again? Dean seemed to explode with the answer at that thought. He never wanted to be in the same room as Alistair, let alone an empty setting with him. Cas knelt down beside Dean, not too close as to suffocate the answer from him, but enough to offer comfort.

"It was um, it was Alistair. He caught me alone by the office after my dad had left." He waited, wondering how Cas would react, when he thought back to Adam's paperwork. He looked down, finding his hands empty, and nearly fainted. Fuck. Fucking shit, where the hell had he dropped it?!

"Dean, calm down, I have that paper you were running around with right here. Don't worry, you didn't lose it." Dean stared at Cas. God he could just fucking kiss that kid. He really was saving Dean's ass left and right.

"We should probably start heading back, lunch is almost over. I snagged you a bag of chips when I didn't see you come in after third period. I was worried you had gotten lost, but it turns out something worse had happened. I'm sorry Dean-

"No, Cas, don't apologize, you didn't know where I was, or that he would have been there. I'm fine." Cas seemed to study him for a beat. Sure, he looked okay, but Cas could still remember the traces of the panic attack he had had nearly three minutes ago.

"Fine, I believe you, but promise me you'll tell me if anything like that ever happens again. Okay?" Cas pressed. Dean nodded, taking the paper from Cas' hands and letting him help him to his feet.

"Okay Cas, I promise." Dean laughed, he was just making promises to everyone today, wasn't he?

* * *

Picking up Adam had definitely turned Dean's day back around. Adam was so excited to see him, he had jumped into his arms, smiling from ear to ear as he noticed Cas beside him. Anna was tucked against Cas' leg, not paying attention to the reunion as much as she was the foreign dirt stain on Cas' knee.

Walking home, Adam on his hip and Cas by his side, making Anna giggle about something, Dean realized something. He definitely had a crush on Cas. And it wasn't a small crush either. He should have been freaking out with that information. But as he turned, staring at Cas' profile when he laughed, he realized something else.

He didn't care.


	15. High school

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's life as a highschooler

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took me a minute to continue, I had a shit ton to do, but no worries. I'm back!

High school. Something Dean never thought he would see. But here he is today. John actually let them stay past two stupid years in one place. He could actually finish school.

Shit that was overwhelming.

He sat now, to be completely honest, he was a bit dazed. His teacher was discussing the changes of some old guy's political career and how it affected his military tactics. Or at least that's what he thought she was talking about. She could have been talking about a transvestite from transylvania and he still would not have been paying attention.

Today was a day that he hadn't realized meant so much to himself. It was his birthday.

He started the day much like all of the others. Wake up, make breakfast, get the boys ready, and today had been hard. With the chill in the air, neither boy wanted to go to school. And Sam. He was growing like a weed. Pretty soon his winter coat would ride up his forearms.

He had walked Adam and Sam to their corresponding schools, enjoyed a small discussion on the difference between the Hobit and Lord of the Rings with Cas, and found himself in his first class of the day. Shit.

He was sixteen. Like actually sixteen. For some reason, he never thought he'd make it this far. Like he'd either have lost track of his birthday's, been done in by one of John's beatings, or took matters into his own hands. But that last one, especially after they got Adam, had not crossed his mind. He had the boys to look after, his babies, and no matter how hard life got, there was no way he was leaving them alone with John.

Not that he believed John would actually get in shape and take care of them. Dean knew he didn't mean that much to his father. John would probably dance at his funeral. If he even allowed them to have a ceremony.

He hadn't told Cas. Or Naomi. He didn't want them to waste time or money on him, especially on a day he hadn't celebrated in years.

The boys got their birthdays, but Dean's? No. He didn't ever feel like celebrating another shitty year.

Although, he was one year closer to being able to take the boys. So, he supposed that was the only upside to this event.

And he thought he would make it the entire day, unnoticed. But the fucking lunch lady screwed his cover. 

He and Charlie were in line, pushing their trays forward, picking up whatever looked pleasing. Which meant, not a whole lot. They waited in line, bickering about why the newest Star wars didn't count, continuing all the way to the check out. He smiled, like he always did, at the lunch lady. And she smiled right back. He'd gotten to really like talking to Missouri, she was a sweet woman, with a lot of attitude.

"Happy birthday sugar," her soft voice rang. He closed his eyes in regret. He prayed Charlie hadn't heard.

Sadly not all prayers can be answered.

"Birthday?! Why the hell didn't you tell anyone!" They made their way to their table. Cas and Ash seemingly lost in a discussion of some mathematical nerdy shit. Jo was flirting with one of Victor's friends, and Kevin was off somewhere studying for his latest exam.

Charlie slammed her tray down onto the table, effectively catching everyone's attention. Dean tried to squeeze his way past her, head down and shoulders nearly tucked into his ears.

"Oh no, you aren't getting away that easy," she said tugging the sleeve of his shirt. He didn't look up, eyes burning the table top with his mind as she cleared her throat.

"It has come to my attention that today is Deanna's birthday." Dean almost smacked Charlie's hand away. He hated when she called him that. All sets of eyes jumped from Charlie, right onto Dean. He could practically feel the confusion flowing through each of their heads. He had never told them his birthday. In all the years that they've known each other, he managed to keep it a secret.

Sure they had asked, which was easy to evade. He didn't need people wasting their time on something stupid like his birthday. At least, that's what John always said.

"Guys, it's not a big deal. I really don't need anything." He began, as soon as Charlie had spouted off the evenings plans.

Cas' eyes hadn't left his face yet. Something like wonderment etched into his eyebrows as he sat there silently. Shit. He would tell Naomi and Naomi would be pissed he hadn't said something.

"Really, I don't like celebrating growing old, but thank you guys anyway." He said, trying to plead with everyone silently. He tried everything, just shy of begging on his knees. But not even Sam's puppy dog eyes would work. Charlie and Jo were not having it. Whenever they put their minds to something, it would take hell or high water to stop them.

After having planned out the entire evening, even factoring in the time walking home and dropping off the boys at Naomi's, Charlie finally shut up. The bell rang, signaling their next classes. Thankfully he had this class with Cas. He didn't think he could take another hour of Charlie's incessant voice.

The two walked silently together, after having deposited their trays and trash away. Cas seemed to be more quiet than usual. Dean chanced a look over, finding Cas' face baring a look of frustration. That didn't make sense.

"Cas?" He turned, pulled away from his berating thoughts. Eyes finding Dean's concerned face.

"Its nothing Dean, I was just thinking about my upcoming test for literature." He fibbed. Dean caught the lie right as it toppled out of Cas' mouth. He had always been a terrible liar.

"Cas, what's really going on? Is it my birthday? Because we don't have to celebrate it, especially if you think your mom won't want to take the boys, " he continued on, already working himself into a panic. He knew it. This was all a waste of time and was already annoying Cas.

"Dean, stop, whatever you're thinking. It's not at all why I'm upset." Cas had stopped walking, eyes now drawn to his shoes.

"What is it Cas?"

"I just...I-I mean, it's not that it's your birthday that's making me upset. It's that you...well, you didn't trust me enough to tell me." He stopped, turning his face away from Dean's prying eyes.

"I-I thought we were closer now." Dean's composure crumbled. He nearly ran into Cas just trying to take that look from his face.

"Cas, no! Of course I trust you! I just-it's just." He let out a frustrated groan. "I haven't really....well...celebrated my birthday for a few years." Now it was his turn to look away in disappointment.

He startled as he felt Cas' cool palm caress his cheek, effectively turning his face toward him. All he saw was blue. If he hadn't been so attuned to his body right now, he probably would have popped an embarrassing boner. Cas didn't even have to touch him for very long, not before Dean was stumbling over himself.

"Dean, I don't know what John has said to you, but you deserve a day to be celebrated about yourself. You're a wonderful human, you're a terrific mom, and you are...well, I'd like to think we're friends. You...you mean a lot to me Dean." He breathed, dazed voice dancing through Dean's ears and thumping in his chest.

At the sound of the tardy bell, the two jumped apart. The hall was now empty, doors to classrooms were being shut, and the two barely noticed any change. They were so lost on one another, nothing else mattered.

Shit. This crush was now becoming harder to hide.

But at the look on Cas' face, the red brushing his cheeks, Dean didn't feel so hurried to hide his emotions. Not yet anyways. He took a breath, reaching out for Cas' hand.

"Thanks Cas." He smiled shyly. Cas' eyes remained on their hands, like he was trying to imprint it into his memory. (Which is exactly what he was doing, shut up.)

He looked up, Dean's expression no longer one of turmoil, but reverence. Something jumped in Cas' stomach, nearly enough to make him double over. He tried to hide the sudden change in his demeanor. It seemed to have worked as Dean led them to class. But he would not forget that feeling.

He was in love with Dean.


	16. Cas' perspective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story/meeting Dean and their relationship from Cas' frame of mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Depictions of sexual assault.  
> Terribly sorry.

He stood, pacing through his room just as he had the day before, and the day prior to that, and even the one before that.

He was sure of it now, as he made his thirty second path around his bedroom. Yes, he was sure of it. He was going insane. That had to be it. He was going mad because he was still hiding his unrelinquished crush from Dean. And it was driving him insane.

It had been a couple of weeks after the events that had occurred at Dean's birthday party. Neither boy had brought up the topic since. But he was sure that what had played out, was not completely as one-sided as he had originally led himself to believe. No. Dean had definitely kissed him back. He was sure of it.

That too, was driving him crazy.

What had happened hadn't been a mistake. Castiel honestly, truly, no bullshitting, believed it had to have been fate. Charlie had made plans for all of Dean's friends to meet up at a local steak house, a place called the Roadhouse, where Jo's mother had worked. Dean had instantly taken a liking to both the place and Ellen. The beginning of the night, Dean had been so reluctant to let either boy go over to Naomi's. He had fought with himself the entire time, that is, until Sam had finally told him to stop chickening out and go have fun.

And he did. He hoped he did. Castiel had tried, about as hard as his friends had, to try and make Dean's birthday a memorable one. They had brought the party to Jo's, at her incessant mother's commands to "stop all that noise and go be loud at home." They hadn't realized the entire bar had a peeked interest in Dean's celebration until that moment. Their laughter had died down by that point, each splitting the paycheck to equal parts until Ellen had come over and forbade them paying on Dean's birthday.

Cas and Dean had sat beside each other the entire night, as soon as Cas exited the booth, he felt off, Dean no longer balancing his side. He decided he hated that feeling. But before he could address it with the man himself, Ellen had asked him to the side, a generous smile painted across her face. So Cas had waited, the others had already ventured outside, Jo claiming the house was right behind the bar. So of course Cas had waited, he didn't want Dean walking alone. Sure it was barely eight o'clock on a school night, but still. You never knew who was out there lurking behind the shadows.

Dean had arrived not a moment later, it couldn't have been more than a few seconds, but it had felt like eternity to Cas. The two exited the Roadhouse, instantly Cas was attuned to Dean's shift in behavior. Whatever he and Ellen had spoken about had definitely soured his mood. Cas had just hoped it hadn't ruined his birthday.

The two were taking their time, walking around the bar, and before they crossed the threshold into Jo's home, Dean stopped. He was staring at the ground, trying to hide the amount of emotion crossing his face. Cas stopped once he had realized Dean was no longer by his side. He turned, watching Dean fiddle with his hands, wringing them together, something he had noticed he only did when he was upset. He was quick to return next to him, hand caressing his arm.

"Dean, is everything all right?" Dean hadn't responded at first, he no longer looked like he was about to burst into tears, but like he was hyping himself. Trying to motivate the rest of the journey into the house. Cas stepped in front of him, halting any movements, both desired and forced.

"Dean, you know, we don't have to go inside if you're uncomfortable. I understand it's an unfamiliar place and you might not feel safe. We can just walk home now, if that is what you would like." He paused, waiting for a response. Dean looked up, amusement playing in his eyes, and let out a laugh. It didn't have the same ring of a joyous laughter, but more mirthless, self deprecating. It was a side of Dean that he had never seen before, he felt instant sadness bloom inside his chest.

"Cas...why are you always so nice to me? I don't get it, like honestly. Why do you even want to be around me?" Cas was taken aback by the question. At his pause, Dean seemed to swim in his own self loathing.

"I-I-uh"

Dean snorted, turning his face from Cas' prying eyes, he didn't want him to see how much it had hurt. Cas not having an answer. "Just-" he sighed. "Just forget I said anything." He made a move to stalk past him, toward the house. Without even a second thought, Cas had reached out, catching Dean's arm and pulled him back to him. It had happened so fast, one moment they had stumbled into one another, and the next Cas was pulling Dean's lips to his own. 

Warm.

That was the first thought that popped into Cas' head. Their lips were pressed tightly together, his eyes were open for only a moment, shocked by his own actions. But it only took that one moment to see the change in Dean's body. He had relaxed into the kiss, hands hesitating to return Cas' passionate grasp around him. He had tasted like french fries.

When they had pulled apart, Dean was silent, blush painting his cheeks the most adorable red that made Cas want to kiss him again. He looked so beautiful then. Of course, he always looked beautiful. But after that kiss, Dean had looked so...at peace Cas didn't want to say anything to break that peace. Together, they had walked into Jo's and continued the evening. Almost like the kiss hadn't even occurred.

But if the chance glances Dean kept sending his way meant anything, that kiss hadn't been in his imagination.

Which was why he was practically crying in frustration now. It had to have meant something! Why wasn't Dean speaking to him? God, it hurt just to think about Dean's eyes, avoiding him on their morning walks to school. He stopped sitting next to him during lunch, and the two rarely spoke during class. What was the deal? Did Dean regret what they had done?

He stopped walking, finally sitting down on his bed with a heavy huff. Nothing made sense anymore. Why couldn't they just be together? He laid flat on his back, thoughts churning in his mind. Sometimes he wished he could turn of his thoughts. They always spoke the loudest when he was upset. Now was no different. Except this time, he was heart broken. 

He must've lay there for years before a knock drew his attention away. He looked up as his door was opened, Gabe let himself in. His face expressionless as he perched himself on the corner of his bed. Cas stared, wondering what he was up to, before he opened his mouth.

"I can hear you pacing downstairs." He said. God. Gabriel was annoying on most days, but the days when he was concerned over Castiel, those days were the most tiresome. He wouldn't leave Castiel's side unless he begged him to. He was very perceptive for a twelve year old. Cas didn't speak, not wanting to solve the confusion in his mind by letting it out onto Gabe. Sometimes it was better to have the inner turmoil. If he let it out, Gabriel could end up telling him something he didn't want to hear. Like the kiss had been one-sided and Dean didn't feel comfortable speaking to Cas because he had taken advantage of him. Shit. Fucking shit. Cas sat up. No. There was no way Cas had taken advantage...right?

"Um..." he began shakily. "If-if I tell you something. You have to promise not to tell Sam. It might make Dean uncomfortable too if his...well his...."He searched for the word. Dean had never really specified what he wanted Sammy to be known as, in reference to his and Dean's relationship. Was he his son? His brother? This whole situation was cumbersome.

"Baby brother," Gabe supplied. That title was almost perfect. It applied to both circumstances and it felt the most comfortable to say. Yes. His baby brother. "Yes, if Sam found out, it would make him uncomfortable." Gabe nodded, waving Castiel on. Mainly to find the point of his pacing. It had been interrupting a very interesting episode of Dr. Sexy for him. He knew he wasn't supposed to be watching that, but sue him, mom wasn't home.

"Well, a few weeks ago...two to be exact, Dean had had a celebration for his birthday. We had went out with our friends and-

"Cas, I remember this, you told me the night you left to Ellen's."

"Oh, right. Anyway, um, well I guess Dean and I had separated from the rest of the group. We had a brief conversation, in which I hadn't answered a question the way I'm sure Dean would have preferred." He paused, eyes finding the bed sheet to have the less likelihood of criticizing him after this next part left his lips.

"He was upset, so, I...um. Well, I sort of..." Gabe groaned. "Spit it out Cas!"

"I-I kissed him." Gabe stared at him. Eyebrows raised nearly into his hairline. Holy shit. He owed Sam three bucks.

"Oh, well that's good right?" He asked. Cas' shoulders slumped. He shook his head. 

"I don't know Gabriel. I'm sure that, at the time he had returned the kiss, that he had returned my feelings toward him. But he hasn't spoken more than a few words to me these past two weeks. He can hardly look at me, God, he doesn't even sit next to me during lunch anymore. I haven't the faintest idea why though." He groaned, burying his face into his hands.

He sat, letting the information process through his mind. "Well, have you tried asking?" Cas looked up, frustration clearly written across his face.

"No, I hadn't thought of that. That would have been useful days ago." He snarked. Raising his hands in surrender, Gabe got to his feet, an idea brewing in the back of his mind. He knew for sure that Sam was at a middle school event, Naomi had taken both Adam and Anna to the movies, so Dean was home alone. Definitely.

"Cas, I'm sure it's nothing, stop stressing yourself over this. Everything will work itself out. Maybe Dean had never been with a dude before and he has to get used to the idea." Cas was silent, thinking it over, and it seemed to make a lot of sense. Yeah, that had to be the reason why he was so awkward around him now. He didn't know how the two were supposed to act. Cas smiled up at his brother. Gabe saluted him and closed his door behind him.  
* * *

If he were being entirely honest. He didn't believe a word he had told Cas. He and Sam had already discussed both Dean and Cas' dating lives. Ever since Cas had entered high school, he had known he was strictly into men. Sam had said Dean was following those lines as well, so whatever was happening, had to be something else.

He managed his way up their porch steps, eyes constantly looking over his shoulder as he crept toward the door. If Dean was being as elusive as Cas had said, he would definitely have to catch him off guard. He twisted the knob, glad to find it unlocked, and let himself in. He was thankful, only this one time, that he was his size. It made it easier to slip into the house without having to pry the door open too far. 

The living room was empty. The house was eerily silent. For a second Gabriel feared Dean wasn't at the house. That's when he heard a noise. It was coming from down the hall, most likely from Dean's bedroom. He had been here enough times to remember the path. He found himself walking down the hallway. John's bedroom door was open, lights shut, but beside his room, Dean's light was on, his door closed. Dean hardly closed his door, that much he knew. Sam had said sometimes Dean let the boys stay in his room, especially when John was in one of his moods.

But John was still at work.

He heard another noise, this one louder than the last. It sounded muffled, like someone was crying beneath a layer of thick cotton. Perhaps Dean was just as torn up about this as Cas was... He found himself in front of the door, hand raised above the handle, he hadn't realized how nervous he was. What if Dean was having a really emotional moment right now and wanted to be left alone? He had almost talked himself into turning around when he heard it. Something that drove his blood cold.

"Stop being such a bitch about it Winchester. I know your brothers call you mommy, doesn't mean you have to act like such a girl about taking dick." He heard Dean crying out again, this time he was sure it was from pain. Then suddenly, he couldn't seem to get out fast enough. He had the frame of mind to carefully close the door behind him, and then he had returned to sprinting. He ran around their fence, up the porch, and stumbled his way up the stairs.

Bursting into Cas' room, he had hardly been able to catch his breath. Cas looked so surprised by his sudden outburst, he was standing now beside him, hands stabling Gabe, leading him over to sit on the edge of his bed. He shook out of the hold. No. He couldn't sit down. Dean needed help. He just couldn't catch his breath to say the words.

"D-Dean," He gasped. Cas leaned in, worry now heavy on his brows. "He, oh Jesus I can't breathe, Cas." He forced himself to stop, taking in a much needed gulp of air. "Dean, I went over to talk to him, and yes I know what you're going to say. It wasn't my place or some shit." He stopped again, his pulse thrumming beneath his skin as he replayed those words again in his mind. He hadn't imagined it.

"I went over anyway, let myself in, and yeah, I know that's wrong too, but shut up and listen." He said, effectively silencing his older brother. "When I went inside, I heard a noise. Like a cry, so I figured Dean might have been upset or something. But then, I heard this other voice talking to Dean an-and well...he had said- um." Gabe paused. This was definitely something he didn't want to say, he never even wanted to think about the reason why that voice had said that.

"Gabe! What did the other voice say? Was it John? Was he hurting Dean?" Gabe waved him off. "No, John was at work, but the voice...well." He sighed. "I-I think they were...um hurting Dean." He said.


	17. Mama Bear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The events leading up to Gabriel breaking into the Winchester's house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING!!!!!! Graphic Depictions of Rape/Non-con

If you asked him, Dean was good. No, scratch that, he was doing better than good, he was doing great, fantastic even. He was floating on a fucking cloud. Seriously. Because Cas had kissed him. He had actually kissed him. And God it had felt good.

Of course he remembered the events that had occurred before that. Ellen pulling him off to the side and asking if John was his father. Said he was a frequent flyer at the bar. Ellen had had to kick him out more than once. She had asked if Dean was...well, if he was safe at home. Of course, his thoughts went to Adam and Sam. If he said no, Ellen would call CPS. And Dean couldn't have that. They would take his boys from him. They could end up in a worse home than they had now.

He had told her no, of course, and it had just fucked up his entire mood the rest of the night. Or at least the next three minutes. Because Cas had kissed him, effectively erasing all of his doubts about him liking him in return. Because the way he had kissed Dean had made his toes curl.

He was excited to meet with him the next day. He was practically bouncing off the walls with restraint. He nearly dragged the boys out of bed, having them rush to eat their breakfasts. As they made their way to the Novaks, Gabe and Anna were waiting on the porch. But no Castiel.

"Dentist," Was all Gabe said about the topic. It made all of Dean's happiness drop into his stomach.

Maybe he was lying, pretending to be out so he wouldn't have to face him. Maybe he had only done that out of pity. Fuck. He really was stupid.

He practically beat himself up the entire way to school. He had barely noticed the hugs that both Adam and Sam had given him. He was too deep in this shitty feeling. That worthlessness that made his steps heavier, made him walk slow, and kept his eyes trained on the ground. He hadn't heard the first bell. But as he looked up, now standing by his locker, he noticed the few stragglers scurrying off to class. Great. Now he was miserable AND late.

He grabbed his books, finding the only two he would need for the day, as he moved to close his locker door, and unwelcome face appeared behind it. Alistair. Dean looked around the hall, making note of all of his exits, but also the lack of people now there to witness if Alistair did anything.

"Dean, looking great today." He said, eyes tracking up his body. Dean nodded, and effectively turned, finding the end of the conversation. Alistair ended right in front of him once more. A smile on his face, looking so sadistic it was already grating on his resolve.

"You want to hear something interesting?" Before he could respond with no, he continued over him. "My little sister Lilith is in the same class as your kid Adam. I mean, your brother." He said, eyes letting on that he knew something Dean was already fearing. "A little birdie told me that your little brothers call you mommy. Is that true? Because I got to tell you, I always had a feeling you were hiding a nice pussy in those jeans."

Dean flinched back, determined now more than ever to get away from him. He took off, ready to sprint into the principle's office, Dad's beating be damned. Before he could get far, Alistair had taken ahold of his arms, wrapping himself around Dean's shoulders, and knocking his books to the ground. His lips were caressing Dean's ear, something Dean shivered out of instinct at. He knew this was wrong. He couldn't break out of his hold though.

"C'mon Dean, you should know better than that. You go gabbing about this and your dear ol' daddy will find out. I'm sure that'll be the beating of a lifetime." Dean snarled, now trying to escape no matter the cost. Alistair tutted at him.

"You should treat me with some respect. Don't you know, Principle Roman is my uncle." Dean paused. Shit. Shitshitshit. That was his only plan. Maybe if he got out he could run to the nearest class and tell the teacher. They would be able to do something.

"Now Dean, let's calm down and have us a little chat." He said tugging Dean toward the nearest bathroom. Dean's shoes skidded in protest at the movement, his arms were pinned to his side, and he couldn't find his voice to shout for help. He was starting to panic. As soon as Alistair had locked the door behind them, Dean smashed the heel of his foot onto the top of his. Alistair barked out a pained cry, shoving Dean away from him and sent him tripping onto the ground.

His stomach could feel the cold tiles through his shirt. His back was exposed. He turned quickly, rolling onto his back in time for Alistair to climb on top of him. Pinning him down with his heavy body. Dean had never felt so small, so trapped, than he did now. Holy shit he was shaking. He turned his face away from Alistair's mouth. His breath tickling the side of his face, enough to make chills run down Dean's spine.

"Here's what's going to happen Deano. You're going to do me a few favors and I won't walk Adam home today. Or tomorrow. As long as you keep doing what I ask. I'll stay as far from those boys of yours as possible." Dean could feel something brushing against his thigh, heavy and hard. He nearly vomited at the sensation. Alistair was getting off on this. But as soon as he had brought up the boys, Dean bucked against him, trying to flip him off of his chest. No one was touching his boys. He may not have been strong or brave, but whoever came in between his baby brothers and him, was definitely going to find themselves injured.

"Hey, easy there bucko. I'll leave the kiddos out of this. For now." He threatened. "I just need a few favors." Dean stopped struggling. Alistair had him, both physically and emotionally.

"What kind of favors?"

* * *

Dean had known Alistair had his own car, which he used to follow Dean home and wait until Dean was alone. Thankfully it hadn't happened yet. He was helping Adam in the bath when he heard John's heavy voice call up from the stairs.

"Dean, whose fuckin' car is that parked across t'street. Seen that fuckin' car almost everyday this week." He said, Dean was quick to ignore his question. He couldn't tell dad. Dad would kill him if he found out what he had gotten himself into. He brought Adam's towel up, drying his hair with a light smile at Adam's giggling. God he was six now. Why was he growing up? Dean nearly cried when he had to take both boys shopping for new clothes. Why was this happening. They were supposed to stay his little boys forever.

"Boy, did you hear what I said?" John said, standing in the doorframe of the bathroom. Dean turned, surprised and shook his head. John's eyes traveled from Dean's face to Adams. Sometimes he would just leave Dean alone, like after making sure that he was effectively taking care of both Sammy and Adam, John would nod. Almost in approval, and then leave him be. Which is exactly what he did now.

"Tell me if you see that car again. Got it?" He asked, eyes sending Dean a soul-searching glare over his shoulder. Dean nodded wordlessly. Like hell he would.

If only he had told John. That was all that was running through his mind right now. He should have fucking told him that morning when he had seen it. He knew Dad had taken Sammy to his soccer practice, and he had probably seen Adam leave with Naomi. Shit. He was a-fucking-lone and he was shaking with the knowledge that Alistair would be coming in for another "favor". Seeing as both boys were elsewhere, Dean locked all the doors. making a second round to lock all of the windows, when he heard that heavy knock.

"Dean, I know you're in there, I can hear you running around. C'mon sweetie. Just let me in. It'll make this a whole lot easier." Dean didn't answer, instantly taking refuge inside his room, shutting it closed with a hard slam. He leaned against it heavily, now locked, Dean had half the mind to move all of his furniture over in front of the door.

He heard the sound of scratching far away, like a dog was clawing at their door. Which, in reality, was Alistair picking the lock, but there wasn't really a difference. Both would and did terrify Dean by this point. He felt exactly like he had in the bathroom cabinet all those years ago. He felt he was seconds away from releasing his bladders entire contents. Just as he pulled away from his door, he realized that the scratching had stopped.

He didn't dare move. Maybe Alistair had given up and left. Dean stood in the center of his room, body shaking with fear and a hope so unrealistic it almost made him smile. He was so fucking done for. He knew it.

Nothing happened for another minute. His heart seemed to remind him he needed air, he took in a much needed breath, trying to remain as quiet as possible. Fuck, he should have went with Sam. He loved watching him play. Even if it was soccer. But he had really needed to finish his homework. He had been putting it off the last two days. He hadn't seen his car until after Dad and Sammy had gone. Another minute of silence passed and Dean's shoulders dropped.

Maybe he really had gone.

He hadn't heard footsteps in the house, or any other noises indicating Alistair had actually gotten in. He took a step forward, eyes trying to study his door. What if this was a trap? What if Alistair was lying in wait for him outside?

Dean nearly laughed. If Alistair hadn't been able to pick the lock and was waiting for him outside, Dean would never leave his house again. Ever. He grabbed his door knob, slowly turning it, unsure on whether he should open the door or not. Before he could decide, the door came smashing into Dean's face, knocking him down on his ass. He could feel blood running from his nose, shit. He was so fucking done for. Alistair had gotten inside. Shit.

He peeled open his eyes, they were so unfocused, bleary with tears from the impact of the wood. He gently prodded at it, wincing almost instantly. Yeah, it had to be broken. He looked up and yes. Just like the cabinet, Dean found himself unable to control it.

"Oh Dean, you poor little girl." He said, hands already grasping Dean's upper arms, jerking him to his feet. He forced him onto the bed, leaving only for a second to slam his bedroom door shut. Dean hadn't moved, only shifting in place, the discomfort from his wet jeans was enough to bring tears to his eyes. This time not brought on by the pain in his nose.

Alistair came back, his weight heavy on Dean's back as he started ripping his clothes from his body. Dean struggled, trying to pull away, but only ended up with a hand forcing his neck down. Dean whimpered in response. He didn't even pull his jeans down all the way before his disgusting hands were running over Dean's exposed skin. Dean sniffed, blood traveling down his throat and into his mouth. It, as well as Alistair's ungentle prodding fingers, made Dean lose his entire lunch over his bedsheets.

Alistair hissed out in displeasure. His hand leaving Dean's neck only to wrap around him and throw him onto the ground. Dean tried to crawl away, Alistair's foot connecting with his back, stopped him almost instantly.

"What the fuck is your problem Winchester? You want me to do this to one of your kid brother's instead?" Dean instantly stilled at that. Alistair smiled. He climbed behind Dean, hands finding their way down his back once more. He cherished the cry he forced out of him when he had shoved his dry finger inside. Dean tried to remain still and silent. If this is what it took to keep the boys safe, then fine. But that didn't mean he was going to give Alistair the benefit of making him cry out. No. He knew how to keep his voice to himself.

After a sloppy prep job, Alistair was lining up with Dean's hips, hand having found its way back onto Dean's neck. He seemed to calm at the cool temperature caressing his cheek, it had been nice. It was enough to pull Dean away from the pain of Alistair forcing his way inside him. It lasted only for a moment, Alistair hands now finding their place on Dean's hips. He pulled back, unsheathing himself only for a moment, before ramming back inside.

That had been the one that cracked him. He tried to keep his hands up, to press them against the ground so Alistair wouldn't force his stomach to skid against the floors. He had tried to keep his composure. Only letting out a few cries here and there, but as he thrust back in once more, tears started falling down his face.

"Stop being such a bitch about it Winchester. I know your brothers call you mommy, doesn't mean you have to be such a girl about taking dick." If he hadn't already emptied his stomach once, that surely would have been what did the trick. Dean felt something running down between his thighs, this time he was positive it wasn't his own urine. Alistair paused, noticing the slide had become much easier now, and looked down. Red had coated his dick, running down Dean's thighs and it was enough to make him laugh.

"Look at that Dean, I popped your cherry."

* * *

As soon as Gabriel had told him what had actually happened, Castiel had never moved so fast in his life. He dialed John's number, someone he hadn't expected to call ever in his life. But if it was who he thought it was, he was going to need someone strong. John didn't pick up until the sixth ring, Cas would know, he was counting. 

"T'hell is this?" Skipping the formalities, Cas jumped right into it.

"Mr. Winchester, Dean is in trouble at the house and you need to get here fast. I'm calling the police." He hung up, already running down the stairs, he didn't even bother dialing, merely tossed his phone to Gabe.

"Call them, and if John isn't there within the next five minutes, go to the neighbors." He knew John was still at the middle school. Didn't want to waste gas running back and forth, or so he had said once. Cas ran outside, skipping the steps and leaping onto the porch. He shouldered his way inside, not bothering to close the door behind him. And that was when he heard it.

"Stop! Please!" It was Dean, there was no doubting. It made Castiel see red. Why did everyone think they could touch Dean? Didn't they know he was Cas'? Their filthy fucking hands hurting him in ways no one should ever be touched. With that thought alone, Cas kicked Dean's door in, mind set on ripping someone to shreds. But that was before he saw them.

Dean was fighting beneath Alistair's weight, trying to get away from what Cas noticed was Alistair's-

His mind blanked. Alistair. He was...he was raping Dean. He stopped, looking up and growling at Castiel for interrupting. He pulled himself out of Dean carelessly. He was quick to tuck himself back into his jeans before he tried to fight him. But Cas didn't care. All he could look at was Dean's shaking body, trying to cover himself even though he was in excruciating pain. It was long enough for Alistair to come barreling toward Castiel.

His attention ripped away now, he only desired one thing. Alister's head on a fucking spike. Castiel always believed in talking through a disagreement. He was never a violent person. But as soon as Alister had forced him into the wall, all of those thoughts vanished. Fuck that shit. Alistair might have had a weight advantage on him, but Cas was taller. As his shoulders were busy digging into Cas's stomach, Cas smashed his elbow into Alistair's spine.

It was enough to make Alistair stumble. That gave Cas enough space to shove him back, sending a fist straight into his eye socket. The two traded hits, stumbling down the hall, taking turns shoving each other against the wall. They hadn't even noticed when John arrived. Too busy trying to tear at each other's throats.

Dean was kneeling, pants now covering him, but he hadn't fastened the button closed. His thoughts too focused on the blood staining the wood floors. John would kill him if it left a permanent mark. He found a few dirty clothes littering his floor and started using those to soak up the mess. Yes a mess, that's what this was. Maybe if he cleaned it, it would all go away. Tears were absently running down his face, he didn't even notice he was openly sobbing until a hand landed on his shoulder.

He looked up, eyes locking with his fathers and he flinched away violently. His shoulder hit his dresser as he tried to get away from him. He was shaking his head the entire time. No. John was going to be mad. He hadn't cleaned up his mess. It was his mess. He had to clean it. It was his fault. All his fault.

"Dean stop!" John barked, pulling Dean's hands from his hair. He looked down at his son, really looked at him, probably for the first time in years. His Dean, his oldest son, was terrified of him. Dean was hiding between his dresser and the wall, trying his best to effectively hide from John's reaching hands. He sat there, eyes traveling from his shaking son to the mess around them. Poorly mopped up blood still covered the ground, his bed was a mess, covered with what he guessed was tomato soup.

Dean's appearance was no better. His eyes were bloodshot, hints of bruises forming beneath each eye, and drying blood ran down his face, covering his chin like a little beard. He had red marks up and down his arms, and his jeans. They were soiled. He knelt down close to the dresser, giving his son enough room to get out if he wanted, but also staying within reach, in case he needed to stop Dean from ripping his hair out again.

"Dean?' He spoke softly. Dean was still shaking his head, having drawn his knees up to his chest John noticed another stain on the back of his pants. A red tint that John didn't want to believe was there, but he knew that neighbor kid hadn't been lying. Whoever that fucker was that was destroying half of his household trying to kill the neighbor kid, had hurt his son. That made John's insides twist and burn. He wanted to show that kid a piece of his mind, but as soon as he made a move to leave, Dean cried out in protest.

John paused, giving his son ample amount of time to speak whatever was on his mind. Dean finally looked up, eyes more focused now than they had a minute ago. "Dad?" He croaked. John couldn't help it, he crowded into Dean's space, scooping his son into his arms. Dean slumped into the hold, tensing only for a few moments, before his hands wrapped around John's middle.

He rocked his son gently, trying to think of that damn song Mary would always sing to him when he was a baby. He couldn't think of the words, but he just started humming it anyway. It was probably for his benefit more than his son's. Was he such a shitty father he hadn't known that someone was trying to hurt his son? He didn't let him go until police officers came searching each room. When they entered, waving their guns around, Dean had actually clutched onto him tighter, like John would protect him from anymore harm.

He glared at the officers, their questioning stares and invasive hands trying to pry Dean out of his arms. He didn't want them to carry him off to the hospital, not when John had two perfectly fine arms.

"Don't touch my fucking son." He growled, getting to his feet. Dean's hands moved around John's neck, burying his face into his chest, away from the sudden loud noises around the room. Loud it was too loud. The static from the police officers radios was even grating on Dean's ears. Everything was too loud. He let John's swaying ease him into a light slumber. He smiled lightly. He had never thought he'd feel another one of John's hugs again. It was nice, he felt so warm and smelled like home, Dean couldn't help but nuzzle in closer, letting the darkness take him away.


	18. The Hospital

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the events at the house dwindled down, Dean's obviously at the hospital. So is Cas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, that was sad, it made me sad, but don't worry everything will be okay!

John was hunched over, elbows resting on his knees, eyes stuck watching the heart monitor beep out Dean's own special tune. He hadn't left yet, the neighbor kid's mom had picked up the boys, he was thinking to himself he really ought to learn their names again. Especially for what they each did for Dean. He couldn't stop looking at that heart monitor, like he needed evidence that his son was still breathing.

Because if he had to guess on Dean's life status by looking at him, he would definitely have feared the worst. He had broken his nose, thankfully an easy reset, multiple bruises and lacerations decorating his body, and the worst. That fucking kid had torn his son's- God he couldn't even fucking say it. It almost instantly brought tears into his eyes. That bastard had, well, he had...He was still struggling admitting what had happened. But the evidence from the doctor and seeing his son's jeans, he knew it. His son had been raped.

He rubbed a hand down his face tiredly. Fuck. Dean didn't deserve this. No one did, honestly, but this was his son he was talking about. He reached out, hand slowly laying near Dean's limp one. He wanted to comfort his son, he really did, but Dean had shied away from his touch for years, he wouldn't change his mind so suddenly about his instincts. John had hurt him, he had. And it was his turn to be afraid of his family. Would Dean even want to speak to him? One hug doesn't cure years worth of damage. He continued his fight of reaching out or staying away, until someone walked up to the doorway.

He looked up, eyes settling on the neighbor kid. He quickly got to his feet, rubbing his hands down across his jeans. The kid looked like shit. He had a black eye, a split lip, and as he walked into the room, John noticed the bandages covering both of his hands. John's mouth quirked up in the corner. The kid had beat that bastard until his knuckles bled.

"I'd uh, shake your hand, but it looks like that might not be the best idea right now." He said as he walked over to the bed, eyes no longer on John. "My name's Castiel, by the way, I'm sure you don't recall, but that's all right. It has been a hectic day." John blinked. rubbing the back of his neck.

"Um, I ain't too good with words, but I do know one thing." He paused, waiting for Castiel's attention to return to his face. "You saved my boy, when I was too stupid not to notice something was wrong. so, uh, thank you." His eyes had long fallen from Castiel's face. To think he was looking for a kid's approval toward his son. He cleared his throat. "Uh, why don't I give you a minute, I'm gonna go grab me a cup of coffee."

He nodded silently, eyes trained back on his son, not caring if John went to a clown rodeo. Sure he had a few more bumps and bruises than Dean, but it was nothing compared to the pain he felt looking down at Dean now. He sat down gently, gauze covered hand not waiting for approval as he took Dean's hand into his own. He ran his finger across the I.V. rooted in Dean's hand. Glaring down at the obstruction.

Why did everything keep them apart?

"Cas?" His eyes snapped up, watching Dean's eyes slowly peel apart. It looked difficult, especially with the heavy bruising beneath both of his eyes. He wanted to cradle Dean in his arms and never let go.

"Dean, do you want me to fetch the doctor?" He said, already starting to rise. Dean's hand clutched his wrist, running over the ridges of the wraps. His eyes seemed to focus on his face. He saw a small smile break out across Dean's face and he wanted to weep.

"You look like shit Cas." He laughed, tears already filling to the brim of his eyes.


	19. The hospital visit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is awake and the boys come to see him, John hasn't left his side, he doesn't know whether that should comfort or scare him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I totally almost fell asleep writing that last chapter, that's why it was short as hell. My B.

He hadn't realized how tired he was, from everything, not just the last few days, until he had to lay in bed and do nothing. It was horrible. To be honest. He was fucking bored out of his mind.

If he didn't think about the last two weeks, Alistairs groping hands, snide comments, or...the incident. He was fine. He had even seen Cas, that had definitely been a wonderful sight. Even banged up, Cas looked gorgeous.

He had held his hand, not really filling the empty silence of the room. He had just sat there, giving Dean some type of strong balance to tether himself to while he sorted out the last few days.

This wasn't the first time Alistair had done something like that. After their first meeting in the bathroom, he had forced Dean onto his knees. He kept threatening that if he bit him, Dean would be sorry. Dean sat now. Eyes focusing on the wall furthest away from his father.

He didn't understand, he hadn't bit him, why did he get so hurt?

John hadn't left his side, they had been there since last night and he hadn't even left to use the bathroom. Dean chanced a look over at his father, nearly flinching when he saw John was already looking at him. He looked so tired. Like the day finally caught up with him, and he was just as lost as Dean was.

The two stared at each other for a few minutes, silent as they waited out the other. Dean hadn't said a word since he had seen Cas last night. No way was he going to tell John what had happened.

He probably knew already. That made Dean's eyes drop, not wanting to see his father's disappointed look, because that's what he would be. Disappointed. Dean had let somebody get into their home. Had let somebody threaten his boys, and now he was paying for it. Maybe John was waiting for the moment they would release Dean, to rain a beating right down on him.

"Dean?" He didn't look up, shaking his head, he tried to turn in bed. The friction against his ass and the bed sheets made him pause. Fuck that was sore. John was up, no doubt from the noise he had let out, and his hands wavered above him.

Great. Now John couldn't even touch him, he was disgusted. Dean was soiled now and his father could barely even touch him.

"Son," he whispered brokenly. Only then did Dean look up. "I-I don't know what you want me to do. If I can touch you, if I should stay the hell away. I don't know. "

Perhaps he hadn't dreamt of John humming to him last night. Maybe John did care. He started to pull away, Dean's hand caught ahold of his. He looked down, hope filling his eyes. He had a chance to fix things.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, hand still holding Dean's carefully, like he was afraid of hurting him more. He watched his son close his eyes, thinking back to that song and started humming it.

John smiled. "That's right son, exactly what your mother used to sing." He paused, eyes studying their connected palms. "I can't, for the life of me, remember the words. Like I stopped remembering them after she died. I couldn't last night either, but son, you're so much like your mama, it breaks my heart looking at you."

Dean opened his eyes, a hard stare piercing into his entire being. John nodded. "I know that doesn't excuse all the shit I've done. Nothing will. But hearing those boys call you mom was what nearly killed me. You're supposed to be their big brother, and I-I forced you to become their mother. Then beat you when you did too good of a job."

Dean squeezed his hand, he realized then that the tears he had tried to keep at bay, were now trickling in steady streams down his face. He made no move. to wipe them, wanting instead to hold onto his son for just a little longer.

"I ain't been sober longer than twelve hours." He said with a laugh. It wasn't light, it was dark, full of self hatred. "I'm sober now."

Dean didn't say anything, he knew he was probably itching for a drink, and this moment would probably be gone by the time they got out. John would be back to drinking, Alistair would hopefully be out of his life, and Dean would go back to raising his baby brothers.

* * *

He had been awake for some time now, the desire to sleep gone after dreaming of Alistair hands touching him. John had left the room finally, said he was looking for some real food, not whatever shit they were serving here. That was when the doctor came in.

Dean tried to sit up, finding only more pain as he shifted. The doctor's hands caught hold of his upper arms gently, easing him back.

"Mr. Winchester, I'd like to start by suggesting you not moving very much." He said with a small smile. Dean nodded in response.

"Well, like we told your father, you have a few bumps and bruises, but mainly it's your... well. It's your rectal cavity that we have the most concern about. It appears that you have an anal fissure. That's really just a fancy way of saying you have a tear." He paused eyes lifting from his clipboard and searching Dean's face for any sign of understanding. When he looked up, Dean looked lost.

He took a few steps closer. Standing now at the foot of the bed, clipboard forgotten beneath his arm.

"Son, I know this is all so confusing, and I'm sure you're still...healing from what had occurred yesterday. If you'd like I have the names and numbers of counselors, other people that have been through similar...events that you can console with. You don't have to go through this alone."

Dean snorted. He rolled his eyes away from the doctor, folding his arms over his chest defensively. The doctor sighed.

"Well, I filled out a prescription for a cream that you'll have to apply to the tear twice a day. By five weeks you should be healed, if it continues to hurt after that time...please don't hesitate to come back." He nodded, turning and exiting to room.

John had been standing by the door the entire time. He and the doctor shared a look, before John crossed the space between them.

"Doc, you wouldn't mind leaving me those numbers would you? He says he don't want to now, but I'd like to be prepared if he does." The doctor smiled.

"Of course Mr. Winchester, if I were in your shoes, I'd want all the help I could get." After handing a few colleagues business card over, the doctor cleared his throat.

"Another thing, Mr. Winchester, before you and your son check out. The medication I prescribed must be put in daily, I understand the trauma associated with that area, he may be reluctant to do it himself. I might suggest trying to assist him when he did put the medication in."

John paused. Dean would definitely not want him there, he would probably rather have Adam do it, anyone other than him. He nodded anyway. 

"Thanks doc." He nodded, allowing him to pass by and enter his room once more. Dean was sitting in bed, face contorted in anger as he fought with himself. John knew the feeling, the harsh thoughts your mind supplied, the what ifs that filtered through, and mainly the why. He sat down in the seat by his bed.

He didn't speak, letting Dean sort through his thoughts and emotions. He had a feeling the next few weeks would consist of a roller coaster of emotions.

* * *

The trip home had been a silent one. Dean was squirming in his seat. The hospital had given him a special pillow that didn't make him feel special at all. He was miserable. He wanted to lock himself in his room and never leave.

As they pulled up to the house, Dean blanched. Shit. He didn't want to go to his room. Ever again. It was ruined. There was probably a stain and the bed. Fuck.

He hadn't noticed John turning the car off, or him getting out, he flinched when his door was pulled open. John didn't force him out, only waited for him, stood diligently waiting for Dean to make the first step. That seemed to have worked for him lately, so that's what he relied on. He could go at Dean's speed.

His eyes looked up at his fathers, full of thick emotion, the main seeming to be fear. He still hadn't said a word to anyone, that John knew about anyway.

John knelt down in the opening, one hand holding his white bag of prescription medicine, the other resting gently above Dean's. His hands sat on his lap, wringing them together absent mindedly. He stared down at John's hand for awhile, before nodding, allowing the contact.

His hand was heavy, but not too overbearing that Dean felt obligated to get out. He felt safe beneath his father's hands for once. He looked up, eyes searching John's face, trying to find the disappointment, the anger, anything that would justify Dean's own emotions.

All he saw was pain. It was hurting John to see him like this. He had never looked at him like that. He didn't know if he liked the feeling or not.

"It's going to be okay this time son. I'm right here." He got to his feet slowly, hand still connected with his son's as he helped him out of the car. Dean seemed to find strength in his father's words.

It might've gotten him out of the car, but there was no preventing the shaking. He shook the entire walk toward the porch, shook even more as John helped him up the steps. And as he crossed over the threshold, he nearly fainted. No. Nononono. He couldn't do this. It was too much. The house might've been cleaned up, the blood erased and his sheets cleaned but everytime he closed his eyes he saw it.

He was shaking his head before they even made it past the living room. He stopped walking, hand tugging John to a halt. He turned, expression as patient as he had ever seen.

"Why don't we wait out here for a little while? The boys should be coming back any minute now." At that Dean seemed to peek up. John wasn't punishing him by taking the boys away, not like he had all those years ago.

He helped him down onto the couch, placing the circle pillow down before Dean could sit. Once he was comfortable, or about as comfortable as he was going to get, John made a move to heat him something to eat. Preferably soup. Doctor had said no solid foods as much as he could manage, bowel movements from substantial food would hurt. The next few weeks would be nothing but soup, broth, and applesauce.

As he turned to go, Dean made that noise again, that terrified whimper that nearly tore John's heart into pieces. It was the same one he had given by his dresser when John had first found him.

He sat down on the coffee table in front of him. Hands gently raised in a calming sign.

"I'm not leaving you, I'm just going to go to the kitchen. Is that okay, or would you prefer to sit at the table while I heat you up something?" Dean's eyes looked around the room, bouncing back from the kitchen, John's face, and the living room.

God he didn't want to be alone. Not in this house ever again. He shook his head, lifting a shaking hand slowly and pointing to the kitchen. John nodded. Dean's pace. They could do this, they could figure it out.

As he situated his son down once more, he thought to himself. If Dean still wasn't comfortable speaking yet, he should probably get him a notepad or something. Just as he started preparing a mental shopping list, he found a can of chicken broth. It probably wouldn't taste as good as chicken soup, but doctors orders.

He had started warming it on the stove when he heard the front door open. Dean jumped, eyes frantically calling out for his father, and he hurried over, turning to inspect who was there.

Adam came running into the living room, Sam right on his tail as they spotted Dean sitting at the table.

"Mama!" Adam called, instantly making John cringe. He moved, catching Adam before he could launch himself at his brother. 

"Hey, we cant climb onto- onto...mama... just yet." He said, placing Adam back on his feet. Sam and Adam slowly ventured closer to Dean. He no longer looked afraid, he looked frustrated more than anything. He had really wanted to hold his brothers right now.

"Dee?" Sam said, eyes flicking back to John, then down to him. Dean lifted his gaze, eyes open for whatever Sam wanted to ask.

"Is it- is it okay t-to hug you?" Dean smiled, tears filling in his eyes. Fuck yes it was fine. God he missed his babies. He nodded opening his arms for both boys to fit into. And they did, both trying to be mindful of the bruises littering his torso as they hugged back. Sam's face was tucked into his neck, taking in well timed breaths so he wouldn't burst into tears.

"Mom," he whispered against him. Dean pulled them tightly against him. Everything was going to be okay, he had his babies now.


	20. Healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The week following the incident

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that hurt a lot to read, totally sorry, but also no. I'm not. I really do believe that when people suffer it makes their coming together and triumphing over the worst situations that much better. But I am too, it broke my heart.

The day began with a new schedule. Instead of getting up and making everyone breakfast, he slept in, John had started waking the boys. The first week without alcohol had made him irritable, and he tried to contain his anger, he really did, but when Adam wouldn't stop asking why mommy was so sad, John had to go outside. He must've been there for two seconds before he lost it. He picked up the closest thing to him, one of Sam's soccer balls, and tossed it right at the fence.

He hadn't expected it to come flying right back at him. It had connected with his face, nearly knocking him onto his ass. Which is where he inevitably ended. He sat down in the grass, a chuckle rising in his throat. He was a fucking moron. He sat there laughing almost hysterically in the grass until tears rolled down his face.

It took another few minutes to realize he had stopped laughing, instead now weeping in the garden like a desperate housewife. Great. When he had finally calmed down enough to clean his face, he looked up. February was almost over, March was right around the corner. They had survived the first week since the incident. Dean still hadn't been back to his room.

He slept mostly in Adam's room, or Sam's if he didn't want to wake the younger boy. He feared Sam would ask questions, questions he wasn't ready to answer yet, so he rarely stayed there. But last night, Dean had done something John hadn't realized he missed since he was a boy. John had grown accustomed to sleeping with his bedroom door open, in case one of the boys needed him during the night. He had laid on his side, facing the door. He hadn't been asleep for very long before he felt the lightest touch against his arm.

It was dark, but he didn't need the light to know it was Dean. He sat up quickly.

"What's wrong Dean, everything okay?" Dean shook his head. He still hadn't spoken a word to him, or the boys. He didn't have his notepad with him now to tell him what was really bothering him. So he tried best to understand Dean's body expression.

He looked tired, the bruises beneath his eyes fading, but making him look even more exhausted. His hair was a mess, like he had been rolling around in his sleep. He was wringing his hands, something Castiel had told him to be wary of, it usually meant Dean was uncomfortable or anxious. Dean was looking at the empty space in his bed, eyes downcast so John wouldn't see what he really wanted. But he knew. This was the Dean that had done that very same thing nearly thirteen years ago. Looking expectantly between Mary and John on their bed, like they should have always left him a space in case he had a bad dream.

"Do you want to try...sleeping in here?" Dean blushed, looking away, thoughts no doubt berating himself for how dumb he thought this venture was. He made a move to leave, but John stopped him, hand gently catching his son's wrist. "Dean, I don't think you're weak if you don't like to sleep alone. It-It's my job to take care of you son." His voice was growing heavy. Much like it had done in the last week. He blamed it on the lack of alcohol.

Dean stared at him speculatively. Then his eyes shifted back to the empty space. It had been mom's side. No matter what bed or wherever they were, that side was always reserved for mom. It made him kind of want to lay there. Maybe if he did he would be that much closer to her. God he missed her, the way she held him when he was scared, and especially the way she always made sure to pile him high with blankets. He looked at his father and nodded. Yes, he wanted to be with mom right now.

Dean had curled up into such a little ball, he worried he wouldn't be able to find sleep in such a position. But sure enough. After he had settled, John making sure the blankets were carefully tucked around him, just like he had when he was younger, Dean had knocked out.

So the day began, just like the others had, except instead of Adam's or Sam's room, he was in Johns. He rolled over, letting his legs stretch and stared out the bedroom window. Dad had already gotten up, taking both the boys to school, which meant one thing.

He was alone.

It shouldn't have been a big deal. Dad was only going to be gone, thirty minutes tops. He had to drive both boys to school, stop at Dean's school and pick up the week's homework. Plus he had already left before Dean had woken up, so that meant he would be back even sooner.

That still did nothing to calm his nerves. He sat up, he really was tired of how scared he was in his own home. He still hadn't been into his own room yet. John had told him he was considering switching the boy's rooms around so Dean would have his own space, his own room. But Dean knew that wouldn't help. He wanted to burn all of the furniture in his room, it was tainted, and would be a constant reminder of what happened.

He rolled around the bed for a moment, trying to decide if he should stay there until dad came back, or if he was brave enough to get up. He burrowed further into the sheets, not finding any comfort, mainly because the bed was now cold. John having taken it's warmth with him. He groaned. This was stupid. He shouldn't be so dependant on everyone else that he couldn't even sleep alone. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

He kicked his sheets off. It had only been a week. He knew he had been given ample amount of time to heal, both physically and mentally, but he really felt like he had done nothing to better his mental stability. His health, dad was dealing with. He fucking hated it. John had told him what the doctor had said before they had left the hospital, about Dean most likely not wanting to use his medicine. Man that doctor was pretty smart. No fucking way was he planning on ever touching himself there.

John had been so awkward about it. He tried to walk Dean through the benefits of the medicine, tried to bribe him with the boys, hell, he even tried to talk Castiel into helping him. It took three hours to get Dean to even consider laying on his back. another hour before he reluctantly gave up and allowed John to swab him with a generous layer.

He won't lie. He cried the entire time. It was horrible, having his father see that part of him because he was too scared to do it on his own. He frowned just thinking about it now. Why couldn't he do it? He eased slowly out of bed. This was pointless, if he couldn't take care of himself now, how would John let him go back to caring for the boys? He needed those boys, they were his, and something such as stubbornness was not going to get in his way of getting back to them.

With that in mind he got out of bed. John usually had to apply it twice a day, once after dropping the boys off, and once before bed. Horrible, both times were horrible. He stomped toward the bathroom connected to John's bedroom. He knew that was where John kept the medicine. It had become almost an automatic response to hate this room. As he crossed the threshold he stiffened. There, right on the counter, sat his tube of medicine.

What the hell? John hadn't even bothered putting it in a drawer? It sat there, mocking him, like it knew he wouldn't be able to go through with it. He sighed. No. He was going to do this, even if it brought him to a fit of hysterics, he was doing this, himself.

He fumbled with his pants. Hands shaking, messily untying his pajama pants. This was stupid. It was concerning his health, he should be all over this by now. His breathing had picked up. He hadn't really seen himself naked since before the incident. He didn't know what to expect, but it certainly wasn't this. He figured he would look deformed, discolored in the places Alistair had touched, like his flesh had fallen off. Because that's how he had felt every day since.

Like he was disgusting.

But looking now, one eye closed, half turned away in fear. The bold eye, stared, eyebrow furrowed in confusion. Skin. Bare skin.

There were fading bruises here and there. But he looked...normal. He stared now, both eyes gliding over his flesh. He hadn't been tainted. He brought his still shaking hand to his hip, one that still bore a hand shaped bruise. It was ugly. But the lightening of the mark only made Dean smile.

This was temporary. All of this. His bruises, the medicine, and even his thoughts. They were all temporary. One day, hopefully, he could be fine again. This would just be some distant memory of something he had lived through, but survived much like all of his other struggles. He would overcome this. 

If he shook and whimpered applying the medicine, he didn't notice. Of course he was still frightened. He hadn't overcome all of his fears, but this one little step had given him the strength to realize something even more important than pushing away his fears. Even more important than taking his health back into his own hands. He had realized, with a small smile of pride, that Alistair hadn't won. Dean was still standing. Yes, he was shaking like a freshly born deer, tears and snot streaming down his face, and had hated his body until moments ago. But he was standing.


	21. His First Word

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's supposed to be healed by now, he knows that. And he is. Physically. But perhaps he might have had a harder time mentally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for sharing your stories on here, talking about (even if briefly) trials you've overcome. I don't know you personally, but I love you. Keep on fighting the good fight.

It's been three weeks.

It still hurt when he sat down too abruptly. When he ate too filling foods and had to exude them later. When he had to watch John's fumbling with trying to raise the boys. But the thing that hurt the most was that he had not seen Castiel the entire time.

He hated it. It made him wonder if he had no desire to speak to him ever again. Perhaps Dean never wanted to utter another word either. Three weeks. Their relationship- well no, there was no official title. They kissed once. Cas had saved him from being even more brutally assaulted than he had been. And then stopped by once in the hospital.

That was it.

And it was driving him back on his recovery. He tried. He really did. He had been doing his routinely medicine application by himself for the last two weeks. John had looked so relieved when Dean had said he'd done it himself. It had only taken a few disbelieving checks to see if he had, in fact, done the deed himself. After that, John vowed never to see that side of his son ever again. As long as he lived. Even if his son got shot in the ass, he would not look at it. He'd already seen more than what he had never wanted to in the first place.

Dean was sitting in Sam's room, tugging tufts of Sam's hair back from his face as Sam worked on his homework. He needed a haircut. He knew Sam would be desperate to convince Dean otherwise. But things with Dad were finally...good. He didn't want to risk something as a small suggestion of Sam getting a haircut to be the breaking point.

They met halfway. Sam had suggested pulling his hair away from his face, whenever he was in dad's presence. Problem solved, right? Dean rolled his eyes, finishing tying the thickest strands to the nape of his neck, and combed a stray piece gently behind Sam's ear. With a mischievous smile, he gave Sam's neck a quick pinch. Watching Sam's cheek try to defend the onslaught of tickling pressure against his neck, he couldn't fight a laugh. Sam froze.

For a second Dean was concerned he had gone to far and literally pinched a nerve. Sam turned though, a smile that could rival the power of the sun, shone on his face. He hadn't heard him laugh in weeks. God he had missed the sound of it. It had always sounded so full and melodious. Dean, noticing the smile on his face, scoffed. He made a move to walk away, but Sam caught his wrist. He had started to hate when they stared too long at him. But Sam was just as stubborn as he was, probably even more, and wouldn't let Dean get away that easily.

"Mom," he said, slowly getting to his feet. He looked like he was up to no good. As he stood he was nearly up to Dean's chin. God that kid was growing. And way too fast. He brought his hands up while Dean had been deep in thought, digging playfully into the meat of Dean's sides. He squawked in an undignified manner, slapping Sammy's hands away as he tried to stop that funny feeling crawling through his ribcage. He knew that feeling. It was laughter.

It took a few more tries before he was completely free of his poking hands. "Sammy-" He stopped, words trapped in his throat. His hands flew up, covering his lips as he blinked in confusion. Holy shit. He had almost forgotten he could actually speak. It had a way of sneaking out when he was alone, the boys at school and John at work. He would sing sometimes, laugh at something on the television. But he hadn't done it in front of another person since Cas.

Social interaction be damned, he really thought he would never speak a word to a living person ever again. Sam was staring at him, concern clearly written all over his face. He was looking down at Dean, crouched carefully in front of him, hands not touching, but desperate to help.

When had he ended up on the floor? Had he shoved himself in the corner again? A-fucking-gain? Seriously. He had only done that when he was by himself, or when everyone had already fallen fast asleep. He found comfort in corners, that was where he had found protection when he had been assaulted. It made sense right? But why the hell was he in one now? He was fine, perfectly fine.

"Mama, please, tell me what to do I don't know what to do." Sam's voice wavered, his eyes now filling with tears. Shit. He hadn't meant to freak him out like that. He pulled his hands from his mouth, shakily reaching out for Sam's hands. At that, Sam launched himself into his arms, a sob breaking both of their hearts as they embraced. He stroked his hair, shushing into his temple as he rocked the two of them in place. Yes, he had been the one originally freaking out, but when it came to scared or frightened Sam? He had always, and would always put him first.

"I-I'm sorry Mama, I promise not to do that anymore. I'm really sorry, I didn't know you would get upset like that." He shook his head, Sam feeling the motion against his forehead.

He wanted to speak to him. That was Sammy. Of all people, his baby brother should be the exception. And Adam as well. Maybe not John yet, they were working up to it. He was still a person that Dean was constantly watching whenever the boys were all together. But his boys, he should want to speak to them. All the time, especially now. When he had always helped them heal with their owies or their sadness. Maybe the street went both ways?

He pulled back a little, giving Sam enough room to shift, now sitting directly in front of Dean once more. His eyes not too invasive as he searched his face. He opened his mouth. Urging the words to flow from him, wanting, no, needing to tell him how much he loved him. He formed the word though, around silent sounds. Sam smiled, eyes filled with a sadness, but not disappointment. He nodded, like he knew what Dean had wanted to tell him, what he wanted to scream from the rooftops.

He grabbed Dean's hand, gently running a thumb across the back on his hand. "I know mama, I love you too." Dean smiled. God he loved that kid.  
* * *

"Son, I'd like to talk to you about something." John said, Sam having long left for bed. The two sitting in the living room, waiting the other out, to see which would speak first. Of course it was John. He cleared his throat, awkwardly fumbling about, trying to organize his thoughts and words at the same time.

"I- well, the Doc mainly, but me too, were thinking about you talkin' to one of them counselors." Dean frowned. That was the last thing he wanted to do, especially now. If he couldn't even speak to his own baby brother, why the fuck would he want to try speaking to a shrink? His eyes drifted away from his father's face, in the direction of the Novak's house. It was a brief look, but that was all it took before John understood.

"I mean, if you'd want to talk to someone else first, that'd be okay." Dean turned, disbelief written across his face. Did he really think he would just open up to John so easily? At Dean's expression, he laughed.

"Not me, I ain't shit for talkin' much. But that Novak boy..." he trailed off, and Dean tried to lean in to catch the rest of that dead statement. John rubbed the back of his neck. This was awkward. Why was it always so awkward trying to talk to this kid? He coughed.

"Well, it's just that- y'know he's real smart. And that he helped you." He cringed. He had been thoroughly avoiding the topic of anything related to the incident, but Dean didn't seem phased. He blinked, wondering if John would actually spit out what the hell he was trying to get at.

"He'd be more helpful to talk to, cause he was here, y'know?" Dean's eyebrows lifted in understanding. He looked away, back toward their house and thought about it. He didn't want to make the first move. He really would have preferred Cas to come here to speak about what had happened.

But then again, he hadn't left the house once in nearly a month. He was anxiety-ridden, not a robot. He still needed life outside of his house. He turned back to his father. He reorganized his thoughts once more, shuffling them in order from worst possible outcomes to best. John waited, wondering if he had gone too far in suggesting leaving the safety of the house. He was afraid to admit it, but he hadn't wanted Dean to leave either. Here, he was safe, and John could protect him. Out in the world, he had no clue what the fuck would happen. To any of his boys. At that thought he turned back to his son, giving him an encouraging nod.

He seemed to fight it at first, but soon he was nodding along with John, in agreement. John smiled.

"All right, I'll talk to Naomi, you guys could probably hang out this weekend or something." Dean's eyes nearly burst from their sockets at the thought of telling her. He shook his head quickly, fumbling around for his notebook. If he was leaving the house, even if it was only for an hour, he wanted to do it on his own time, without any outside influence. Which he transferred down onto his cleanest page, turning it toward John when he was finished.

"No, I want to go by myself." The statement was clear. John frowned. He was sure it would have looked like a play date, John bringing his son to meet with Naomi's under both of their watchful eyes, but he had a feeling before Dean had even written anything, that he wouldn't want help. He sighed. He wanted to trust the world to take care of his son, but the world had already hurt him so many times, John looked down.

Most of those times were his fault, so he really had no say in why he had wanted to protect Dean, so suddenly. He couldn't argue that he was a good father, because let's face it, he's a fucking nut job with alcohol issues and an anger the size of Russia. He couldn't really say that he was scared because he knew how Dean felt, because he didn't. He would never know. He looked up, seeing the disengagement right on Dean's face. He was seconds away from scurrying off and John knew it. He had one chance to do the right thing. Even if it was letting go.

"Okay," he started, Dean's eyes snapping up in attention. "But I'm walking you to the door. No exceptions." Dean smiled. He had a protective dad. Who knew?

* * *

The weekend approached so quickly Dean nearly got whiplash. He and John stood by their front door, both the screen and the actual door were still shut, waiting for Dean to make the first move. Just like everything else the two had done together. John waited patiently. He had already tipped Naomi off, letting her know that Dean wanted to speak to Castiel, and that he wanted the least interaction as possible from the other kids.

Too much too fast had seemed to upset Dean. John had learned that fast throughout the last couple of weeks.

Dean was doing that thing again. Fingers having woven together, only to pull apart jerkily. He was worried. That was a no-brainer. John watched, only for another moment, before he decided he hated watching Dean's hands work over one another like that. He cleared his throat, giving Dean enough of a warning to step away as he reached out.

He caught his hands, both now warm with nervousness and the friction of his worried path. Dean looked up, broken out of his thoughts, and tried to search John's face for anything. Encouragement. Understanding if he didn't want to go through with it. Forgiveness. Maybe even disappointment. He was used to seeing that on John's face. But as he looked at his father's face now, he noticed something different.

Any of the looks he had use to send him always had this faraway look to them, like John wasn't really speaking to him at all. More like...he had been speaking to himself. As he looked at John's face now, he saw one thing, and that one thing he had grown accustomed to seeing on Sammy or Adam's face more than once.

It was hope.

He took John's hand in his own. Fuck all of the people that probably thought he was too big or old to be doing that. Holding onto his dad's hand for structure, to be lead into wherever the two were destined to be. He hadn't had this when he was a kid. He knew the circumstances were fucked up, but if it led to him getting John back, actually having a father in years. He wouldn't change a thing.


	22. Castiel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Cas come back together.....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I fell off the face of the earth, I wear a few other hats than "writer", time to put it back on. I'm being lazy.

He'll be honest. He was totally staring out of his window like a creep.

He couldn't help it. Dean had finally wanted to see him. He hadn't asked for Cas at all during the last few weeks. It had been torture, he had wanted to go over, make sure he was healing, but something held him back. Like how big of a chicken he was. Gods. He was so nervous, and a bit stupid, that he was squeezed between the window edge and his desk, trying to spy on Dean and his father. His hip hurt, the corner of the desk now scraping his side like a warning.

Of course he ignored it. He was going to stare until Dean had made it to the door. After that...he didn't know what he was going to do.

He had already cleaned his room. Twice. Had finished his homework (for the week) and helped Gabe with his homework. He even played Barbies with Anna. Nothing seemed to keep his mind away from the fact that Dean wanted to see him. That he didn't hate him for acting that way.

Tension crept up behind his shoulders at the mere memory of that vile monsters hands on him. He shook the thoughts out of his head. No. He wouldn't let Alistair ruin another thing. He was going to see Dean and they were going to have a fun fucking time. 

Well a fun time.

No fucking. 

Of any sorts.

He nodded to himself. Yes. Got to keep on track, especially with those errant thoughts that seem to creep up on him at the most inopportune times. Right on the brink of sleep, Dean's smile would pop up into his head. Running in gym, the way Dean's hair shone beneath the skies warmth.

The doorbell rang. Shit. He fumbled, squeezing through the small space between corner and hard place, face nearly colliding with the shades as he pivoted out. He heard the door opening, his mother greeting the two down below. When he finally broke free, only walking away with a few bumps and bruises, he tried to collect himself. The knowing steps of Dean's cautious feet making their way up the stairs.

Had this have been a month ago, Dean wouldn't have bothered knocking. He would have let himself in, ran up the stairs, and walked right into Cas' room.

But this wasn't the past. This was now, and right now, his door whispered out Dean's appearance.

A gentle knock. Barely noticeable, shit, he probably wouldn't have heard it had he had not been paying attention. The sound of his heart beat should have been what the knock resonated with. But his knock was so... unsure, like Dean didn't feel comfortable being there. Which, of course, Castiel could not stand for. This was Dean's home away from home, he was welcome here no matter what happened. Especially considering, it wasn't his fault, so his family had every obligation in caring for him.

Shit. He still hadn't answered the door.

He rushed forward, somehow tripping on the shoes he had sworn he put away moments ago. Catching himself on the door, he jerked the handle, giving both of them a surprise.

Well, that wasn't Dean.

"Hey, um Castiel, would you mind me and you having a few words, just before I let Dean come up here?" John said, presence unlike his knock. Cas nodded, a bubble in his throat blocking any actual words from exiting, as he looked UP at John. Had he always been this tall?

He strode past Castiel, entering his room as if it were his own. He looked cleaner, like drinking 24/7 clogged up your pours or something. He turned, leaving the door open in case he had to make a run for it. He didn't like John. Obviously. Regardless of his sober appearance, he was still an asshole. An asshole that had hurt Dean in more than one way.

Still. He was Dean's father. So he couldn't exactly kick the dude in the nards just yet.

John cleared his throat, finding a place a top Cas' freshly made bed. (Yes freshly, he was nervous, sue him.) He seemed to stare through Cas, like he was trying to understand what the hell was going on with the kid, and why for some reason, his son enjoyed spending time with him. God forbid Dean has friends.

"Tell me something," he began, eyes now locked with Castiel's. He stood straighter with the attention. Dean had told him of his father's former military service. It showed in his hard stare alone.

"When that kid came in to my home, hurt my son, and destroyed half of my house trying to kill you," he stopped, something of a smirk on his lips. A huff left his mouth. "How the hell you stood against him." He laughed, eyes now looking Cas over again, instead, trying to inspect him for secret powers he was using in times of danger.

"I saw the size of that fucking kid. I mean, you're no bean pole yourself, but seriously. You didn't go after Dean? Just went after the bad guy?" John had lost his smirk. The suggestive tone made Castiel tilt his head. Gabe often made fun of him for it, but he was confused. Why would he have wanted to force himself on Dean? Dean had been nothing but nice to him, yes he was infuriatingly adorable, but he had never done anything to hurt Cas. To make Cas want to...to hurt him.

"Mr. Winchester, I don't seem to understand what you're asking. Are you inquiring as to why I did not participate in your son's assault?" John's eyes hardened.

"He was...vulnerable, exposed, and you could have joined that sick little bastard, but you didn't." Eyes now drifting from Cas' face, flowing around the walls of his room, John shook his head.

"You surprise me kid, that's all I have to say. That and you're fuckin' stronger than you look. Threw that kid right through our coffee table." He laughed again, Cas fought against the red staining his cheeks.

"About that, I'm terribly sorry for having participated in that aspect of that day. I had broken a few things in your home, I should have apologized after the fact, and I will replace anything I might have had part in breaking." John shook his head once more, eyes downcast, studying his hands. They joined together, only for a brief moment, rubbing gently together. Something that reminded him of Dean.

"Castiel, I don't give a shit what you broke." He looked up, eyes hard once more. "You put that fucker in the hospital, and that's all I wanted. I don't need you replacing fuckin' nic-nacks or sweepin up broken glass. You...you," he exhaled, trying to find the right words he wanted to say. Of course, there really is no proper string of words to say, the only thing he could think of was, "Thank you."

Cas blinked.

Well, that was not what he was expecting.

"Oh, I mean, you're welcome." He scratched his arm nervously. "There really is no need to thank me, I would have helped Dean in any way I was capable." He looked up, that tension crawling back up his spine again. "Let us both be glad my hands were...free. I had very much enjoyed inflicting as much pain upon that monstrosity before the authorities were involved."

He felt that red creep up in place of the tension. Of course he was embarrassed, he had never acted like that before. He did not think he possessed a violent bone in his body, but after seeing Alistair hurt Dean like that, it was like a switch had been turned in his brain. All he could think of was ripping him apart.

John stood now, somehow having walked right up to Cas without his knowing, and rested his hand on his shoulder. He jumped at the connection, eyes rising to meet John's light smile. He looked almost sad, like he was thinking of a happy memory, but the smile was filled with such knowing that Castiel realized he would trust whatever words came from his mouth next.

"I know its scary as shit...to have those feelings, even the bad ones, about someone you care about. God knows...well, I wasn't the best after, well, after my-uh my wife...passed." Cas fought the urge to snort, letting John continue regardless. "She and I had had a bumpy relationship, but when it came down to it, ain't nothing stoppin me from gettin to her. And when he was in danger, you showed that same grit. You protected him. I don't give a rat's ass what you say, I'm still gonna say thank you."

Offering his calloused hand, hard from years of work and weight, Cas didn't wait, reaching out and accepting his hand. Of course he had protected him. Thinking about it now, he realized, he probably would have killed Alistair, had it not been for the police ripping them a part, he would have gone until Alistair was beyond recognition.

The thought should have scared him, that someone could make him feel so...protective...but it didn't. He didn't care. Because Dean was everything to him. He would and could kill for him.

"Of course Mr. Winchester, I will always watch over Dean."

John nodded. The two separated. "I won't regret leaving him here with you then." He moved past him, much like he had earlier, only this time to escape the confines of his room. Hand resting on the handle, he offered only the side of his face, as he spoke lowly to him.

"I ain't gonna regret it, am I?" His voice was practically oozing venom. It was so daunting that Castiel couldn't help but take a step back in response. He had shook his head no, only remembering then that John couldn't see him.

"Uh, no sir, I would never do anything to hurt Dean, I lo-" he coughed. 

Oh shit. 

Was he really about to say that? Fucking right in front of John?

"I, um, I really care about him." He couldn't exactly see John's face, but he swore there was a smirk on his cheeks. He nodded. "Good." And let himself out. After the door shut behind him, Cas' shoulders dropped.

Holy shit. Talking to that man took so much energy, he had felt the need to stand upright, to keep his answers forward and sure of everything. It was exhausting, he didn't know how those boys did it on a day-to-day basis. He slumped onto his bed, back messing the smooth facade, and brought his hands to his face.

God, he was in love with Dean. It was bad too, not even a little crush, it was a lasso-the-moon-and-kill-for-them kind of love.

Another knock sounded at his door, he shot up, tongue stumbling as it tried to call out for entrance. Just like before though, Dean let himself in. Even if his eyes were staring only at the ground, hands fidgeting together, and breath coming out in forced patterns. He knew it. Everything was going to be okay now, because the two were together again.

"Dean," He sighed, smile plastering upon his face without allowance. He tried to calm down the energy bouncing around his body, but Dean's presence just did that to him. It made his heart stutter, his hands lose focus, and his face just pour out his heart to the other teen.

Dean looked up slowly, worried Castiel hadn't actually agreed upon their meeting, but the look in his eyes said it all. Deep oceans of blue just bore into him, making the stress of all of these past weeks dissipate. Words suddenly jumped in Dean's chest. Words that he wanted to say so badly it nearly gave him heart palpitations. He had actually wanted to speak.

Shit. He didn't just want to speak. He wanted to laugh, to tell his brothers he loved them, and more than anything he wanted to tell Cas that, well, that he kind of sort of loved him too.

The only thing that came to mind was, "You look like shit Cas." 

They both laughed. Cas probably did look like shit, he had been so nervous, and after speaking with John he had only grown more high strung. His hair was undoubtedly a mess, after having run his hands through it numerous amount of times. His bruises had long since faded, but Alistair had cut his lip, it had needed a stitch, but it had been taken out days ago, he knew it still looked split and irritated from Cas' wandering tongue, but he didn't care.

Dean didn't look any better. He looked tired. Like he hadn't slept properly in days. Cas wanted to pull him into the tightest of hugs, but forced himself to stay where he was.

"I'm glad to see you have maintained your wonderful sense of humor Dean, I adore that most about you." Deans cheeks shone an adorable shade of pink at the comment. Cas nearly squealed in delight. God he loved teasing Dean.

Dean still stood near the door, something Cas sought to rectify almost immediately and stood up to state such. But before the words even got out of his mouth Dean had rushed forward, hands scrambling for purchase around Cas' back. God he missed this. Just the regular comforting touch of another human being.

Don't get him wrong, he loved Sam's hugs, and he especially loved Adam's feet always finding their way in his face or neck while they slept. But this touch, it was so much more. He could relax in Castiel's arms. Which is exactly what he did. 

Cas was suprised, of course, mainly because he was so sure Dean would hate him for how he had reacted. But also because he hadn't touched Sam or Adam as affectionately as he normally did, he had feared he would receive the same treatment. But Dean had always been more of a man of action than anything else, of course he wouldn't shy from instinct now. Cas pulled him into his chest, cherishing the feel of Dean's cheek nuzzling into his neck, he couldn't help but press his face into Dean's hair.

He had missed him so much it had physically hurt him to be apart.

"Cas," he sobbed brokenly. He shook his head in response. He knew John wanted Dean to start talking again, but he wasn't going to force him. Especially not when he had him in his arms.

"We're going to be okay, just like this darling, we're going to be all right." It didn't occur to him what he had just said, but he didn't care if Dean knew. He loved him, fuck anyone that didn't like it. Except for Dean, if Dean didn't like that, he would be okay.

Well, as okay as he would manage.

But still. They were going to be all right, as long as they stuck together.


	23. Back in Class

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a month of staying home, Dean feels he is ready to venture back into the world of school once more.

He tapped his pencil absently against his notepad. He was confused, obviously. They were in Castiel's room, the owner of said room was sitting stretched out on his bed, nose buried in a book. Dean had found his place in Cas' desk chair, turned toward him, with just enough space to stretch his own legs out onto the bed.

The two had finally been spending time together again, a relief that did not go unnoticed by either person. Since their joyous reunion, they had found themselves (whenever in the same presence) standing as close together as possible, permitting the situation. When they did their homework at Dean's, the two scooted the chairs to the dinning table as close together, and sometimes it wasn't even a conscious choice. Like they gradually gravitated toward one another, chairs scooting closer when the other had a question.

Cas didn't seem to mind, which Dean was thankful for. Ever since Cas had let him sob in his arms like a baby, Dean just couldn't help but want the physical reassurance of Cas' presence. Which is exactly why his stretched out legs were resting a top Castiel's lap.

He continued his drum session, a forgotten beat calling out his attention, trying to keep him from sinking into his thoughts. But he couldn't help it. Every time the two were together, it always made him distracted. Whether he was avidly trying to avoid staring at him, or he was too caught up in studying the other teen, he was hopeless.

And now, he was focused on another problem entirely. Well, not a problem exactly, but something that was driving him up the walls with stress.

"I can hear your thoughts churning from here darling, is everything all right?" Dean blinked. This thought process had taken him further down the rabbit hole than he had expected. But it was Cas' fault! Saying shit like that, calling him dumb pet names that he didn't find dumb at all but endearing. And just like the previous times Cas had called him that, he couldn't fight the blush that stained his cheeks and immediately dropped his gaze down.

Cas shifted, a gentle hand coming to rest on top of his ankle, the pressure of his hand was never forceful, always soft and questioning. Was he holding too tight, did Dean even want his touch right now? It was a dilemma he found himself facing each time he yearned to reach out and touch him.

"Dean?" He asked, brining his attention back up. He tapped his pencil once, twice, and let the biggest question in his mind take root.

He wasn't a chicken. He should just ask Cas, he would get a completely honest answer, maybe it was the answer he was secretly praying for. He would never find out if he didn't ask. He opened his notebook to a free page, feeling no discomfort from his studying eyes. Cas didn't care that Dean wrote down almost everything he said, he had told him he would speak when he was ready. Sometimes the two traded back words, but some days Dean would wake up, almost instantly knowing if it would be a day in which he wanted to speak at all, or not.

Today had sadly been the latter. But that wasn't going to stop him. So he wrote out his question, only to stop and stare and those three words. Shit. Why was he doing this? Wasn't it too soon? He should just wait, maybe another month, or year, something like that before asking this. He shook his head, decidedly crossing those dumb words from the page. No, he couldn't do it yet, their friendship meant more to him than his little crush.

And by little crush, he meant heart-crushing-knee-weakening-dizzy-spell that Cas held over him.

Cas shifted again, this time scooting to the edge of his bed, feet finding their way to the ground. Dean's legs remained carefully against him, shifting only minimally as Cas turned his attention to him fully. A foot rested on either side of his waist. His mouth went dry.

What the hell was Cas doing?

"Dean, I understand you are confused, but whatever it is that is on your mind, you can feel free to share it with me. I would never let our conversations end in a manner that leaves you hurt or confused." He paused, body still, and hands no longer offering that constant reassuring touch. He hated it, he wanted to jump into Castiel's lap and squeeze the life out of him. Thankfully, he restrained the urge. Shaking his head again, Cas sighed.

There, that sweet light touch against his face, caressing his cheek. That was what he didn't know he wanted. (Well, he knew, but he wasn't going to go asking for it.) Cas brought his eyes up, finding himself unable to contain the pleasure he got from staring into Cas' frozen glaciers. That was how he felt, frozen, and unable to do much else but drown beneath his stare.

What he didn't know, was that Cas was feeling the same thing. Except instead of glaciers, he saw fields upon fields of open meadow, grass and trees calling out the spring. It was like being enveloped in a warm embrace, something he desperately craved from the other boy. But he waited patiently, hand still stroking Dean's cheek, unable to fight that urge, but otherwise gave as much silence onto Dean. Hoping he would fill the void.

Dean cleared his throat. He didn't let the shaking in his hands stop him from writing the question down once more. This time he didn't obliterate the letters before Cas got a chance to read it. Cas only looked down when he heard the led stop dancing across Dean's notepad. He was fairly decent at reading upside down, no obstacle faced him when he read, except sleep. He could not read with his eyes closed. But as he read Dean's words, he paused, misunderstanding instantly. Because...what?

"Are we together?" written across Dean's page, in his blocky script. He didn't know, but that was what killed him. His heart stuttered. Shit. Shitshitshit. Dean knew and he wanted it to stop. Or worse, he never wanted Cas' touch again. He paused.

Did Dean...want to be together? He opened his mouth, leaving it open like a fish gasping for air. He blinked. Now he was the one incapable of speech. Dean's shoulders dropped when Cas didn't answer immediately. He turned from Cas' hand and scribbled out another sentence.

"I would understand if you," he paused, unable to finish the last part. If he did, Cas would realize that Dean wasn't good enough. He was soiled. The pencil shook in his hand. No, he had to finish, that way he could save them both the heartache if he didn't want him.

"didn't want to." He wrote, head dropped to hide his face from his prying eyes. He wouldn't and couldn't face Castiel if he said he didn't want Dean. At those words Cas nearly wept. No, he wouldn't let Dean think that for a second he didn't want him. He took Dean's pencil out of his hand, waiting for any kind of disapproval, but received none, and wrote his response near Dean's last statement.

"It is I that struggles beneath the effort of your approval. I have wanted to be with you since our first encounter. Your baby brothers, the way you cared for them, it made me want to care for you. I am aware, you are fully capable of taking care of yourself, but I think I would like to get a chance to do it for you." He stopped, feeling Dean's eyes on the side of his face, almost burning into him.

"C-cas?" He croaked. A smile graced Castiel's lips.

"I would want nothing more than for us to be together darling." He responded. 

Aaaaaaaand there it went.

Restraint out the window, Dean jumped onto Cas, taking him by surprise and tackling him back onto the bed. He was a reassuring weight in his arms. He pulled him close, loving the way Dean tried to speak, but was almost as unable to find the right words as he was. He shushed him, stroking a gentle hand down his back, never venturing farther than his waist. Finally, they were together. No more confusion, or hidden feelings, and especially no one to stop them. This was it.

* * *

The two stood at the mouth of the school, waiting hand-in-hand to enter. They had already dropped the kids off at their corresponding schools. Both teachers glad to see Dean once more. They had both been smart enough not to mention the incident. Perhaps John had told them.

Kids were milling about, scrambling to reach their first classes, and searching for their groups of friends. This was school. Nothing had changed, well, except for the two boys waiting for courage to take them.

"You have your notepad right?" Cas asked for probably the hundredth time. He smiled, squeezing his hand in response. Cas was such a worry wart, it should have been annoying, being babied like that. But Dean only felt butterflies flittering in his stomach at each sweet gesture Cas displayed. He worried Cas would no longer want to hold his hand, especially in a public high school, there would be a lot of backlash, Dean knew he could handle it. He had been handling it for years beneath John's creative words. He could handle a few dumb students. But Cas didn't seem to notice any change, he just took Dean's hand and the two had walked up the faithful stairs.

"I'll be right there after every class okay?" Dean smiled again.

"Cas," He said, catching the other boy's attention. He looked down at Dean, noticing the smile on his face and couldn't help but feel embarrassed. He was doing it again. The worrying. He knew it, but he couldn't help it. He wouldn't be able to protect Dean if the two were in separate classes.

"I know darling, I just-well, I'm just worried. But I trust you, so if you say nothing is wrong, I'll believe you. Or if you say there's something amiss, I'll be there at the drop of a hat." Dean nodded in agreement. Those were terms he could agree with.


	24. Healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean being Dean, trying to heal, but with so much support it honestly should be annoying.

He was fine. Really.

Perfectly fine.

Seriously.....He was solid. The picture of perfect mental health.

I mean, sure, he still had panic attacks if someone touched him without warning. He hadn't set foot in his room, nor had he been able to sleep alone. School was fine though. There he could pretend he was just another teenager, without a care in the fucking world, aside from maintaining his grades.

It was just....well....the staring.

That was starting to get old, and fast, like really fast. Every time he and Cas would walk together through the halls, occasionally holding hands, or even just standing too closely. Someone always stared at them. First it was just a few dumb kids that didn't know it was rude to stare.

But then, well, Dean noticed someone all too familiar tailing after them down the halls. He tried to remain inconspicuous, hiding behind other students, staying by the lockers, but it proved no avail. Dean knew that Alistair's stupid, no good, piece of shit, creepo friend Azazel was following him nearly everywhere he went. Fucking fantastic. Cas seemed oblivious. That poor doe-eyed man. Love struck on Dean, barely able to focus on anything other than the fact that Dean was his.

Like ACTUALLY his. What a trip, right?

However love struck he was, he always managed to stay attuned to Dean's emotions. Like it was a radar going off, signalling the approach of another panic attack or an onslaught of tears. Some days it was both, but he always stood by his side, or found the nearest place away from prying eyes. He couldn't even begin how to express how thankful he was for that last one. Sometimes a random kid would shoulder him in the hall, hitting Dean's chest or stomach, causing bile to creep its way into his throat.

His chest and stomach were both very personal to him. Stomach having bore most of the bruises Alistair had inflicted on him, chest having been crushed into the ground, his incessant hand along his neck.

He shook himself from the memory.

Now was definitely not the time to be thinking about that. He was standing outside of Cas' last class, waiting for him to finish some test or another. He was anxious. Obviously because he was worried about Cas. That test had sounded difficult.

He was in no way nervous about being alone, the halls slowly thinning out as kids scrambled home. He was fine. Like seriously. We just went over this. He was fucking FAN-tastic.

He bounced on the balls of his feet, time was inching by, creeping at a snail's pace. Had he have not been filled with dread (over Cas' Calculus test, nothing else, seriously get off his back) he would have been bored out of his mind. Thankfully, he had a lot on his mind to keep him busy.

Sammy was doing well in school, Adam was making more friends. And John. He was a whole new person. Yes, still an asshole from time to time, but he tried to direct it away from the boys. He was doing fairly well, he knew he still struggled with the desire of a drink in his hand every time he came home and sat down on the couch. But it was like, every time he saw Dean, he just...stopped.

Whatever he was doing. Seriously, it was getting weird. And he would stare at Dean, until he would wave for his attention. Something to get his face from studying Dean's so hard. What the hell was he thinking about when he looked at him like that? So full of, well, it was a surprise to Dean the first time he noticed, but emotion. Whenever he would stare at Dean, he looked almost always on the verge of a mental breakdown.

It was annoying, really. Dean was the one hurt. Not him. He should totally knock that off.

He huffed. Crossing his arms over his chest, he leaned back into the door. Cas' teacher had already closed it, waving Cas' wishes of keeping an eye on Dean, right as soon as he sat down. He understood, it was a test, she probably thought Dean was going to help him cheat or something.

Not that Dean was in calculus. Fuck that. He had just barely learned how to read, can't expect Einstein to be jumping out of his brain every time someone gave him an equation. His eyes dropped to the ground. Looks like the janitor must have just mopped. Floors were looking really clean today.

That is, they were, until a messy pair of boots found themselves in Dean's line of sight. He froze. The feet moved closer, much closer than he was comfortable with, and he felt the warmth of another body crowding into his space. He looked up unwillingly. Already knowing whose disgusting mustard eyes would be staring at him.

"Dean," he sneered, smile oozing across his face. He studied Dean, eyes tracking his body from his feet, stopping near his waist, eyes unable to help the urge of taking a peek at his sweet little ass. He swallowed the lump in his throat.

"A-a,"

He laughed, "Gonna cut you off there kiddo. Rather not hear your stupid attempts at my name, I'd prefer to make you scream it out later." He tried to take a step back, finding himself plastered against the door. He and Cas were barely finishing their sophmore years, but both Alistair and Azazel were older than them. Alistair was a slacker though, having found himself in the same class as the two younger boys, but Azazel? He was smart. And worse of all, he was patient. A senior, friends with Alistair since their freshmen years, every since Dean showed up at the school the two would watch him walk down the halls.

He always looked so...happy. A shame that Alistair couldn't wait for their plan to be complete before he got the jump on Dean.

"We were supposed to sample you at the same time, you know that? Stupid bastard was impatient though, seems like he was foolish enough to get caught as well. Heard your little attack dog got ahold of him." His fingers traced along Dean's jaw, it took everything for Dean to keep his face neutral. If he gave away how scared he was, Azazel would pounce, he just knew it. His bladder screamed at him in protest, the familiar sensation tightening in his stomach.

His hands inadvertantly found their way around his waist, trying to protect that from Azazel's reach. Just as he feared Azazel would try to touch any lower than where he was now, he stepped back. Smile on his face as he looked Dean up and down once more.

"Got a nice friend there Deano. Real shame if something were to happen to him, y'know. Like if he...got in the way. Alistair isn't as quick as I am, I doubt lover boy will make it out with only a broken hand this time." Dean blanched. Cas. He couldn't let Cas get hurt, or his siblings. If Alistair had only threatened his baby brothers, what would Azazel actually do, if he got close enough?

He hadn't realized how long he had been standing there, long after the older boy had left, until the door opened behind him. He stumbled through it, nearly collapsing into Cas. Thankfully, Cas was quick enough to grab him before he smacked into the doorframe.

He was saying something, trying to get Dean's attention, but he knew by the look on Dean's face that he was too far out of it. He was in that other place, the place Cas knew he never wanted to see, and knew Dean couldn't help but float there when he was really scared. His teacher was eyeing them, trying to find a way to weasel in and help, but Cas wouldn't let her.

"He's fine," he snarled. Leading the two of them down the hall, he knew that only two things would pull Dean out of that place. Two little brothers that would stop at nothing to help their mother.

* * *

It was bothering Dean, he knew he was being dramatic, but Sam was getting older. Which meant he would probably stop calling Dean mom. That hurt more than he expected. But Sam always seemed to surprise him. He was never embarrassed to call his own brother that, sure, he was embarrassed to bring any possible girls around his mom, but he didn't care.

But around John, he only called Dean by name, not by position. Adam didn't give a flying fuck. If Dean had raised him, Sam conditioning the boy into believing Dean really was his mother, there was no changing fact. The only times Sam called Dean by that name was when he was really embarrassed, if the two were alone, or if he was really scared.

Watching Cas practically carrying Dean down the sidewalk evaporated all of Sam's thoughts. Dean's face was as white as a sheet, he was really checked out, hands shaking in Cas' hold. He didn't think, just ran forward and launched himself into him.

"Mama?" He asked, voice cracking on every syllable. His brother's hands wound around him, rubbing his hands down his back, pulling him into his chest without really knowing what he was doing. Cas' eyes were so full of concern, Sam felt tears pooling in his eyes. Something had happened, something that Sam wasn't big enough to prevent. Again. God he felt so useless. He pulled away, keeping Dean at an arm's length.

Cas was hovering beside them, fighting with the urge to shake Dean from his stupor or to hug him until he no longer had the strength the carry them both. Sam watched him, noticing his wary eyes, tired from the last few weeks of taking care of Dean. It was so hard, difficult really, to take care of another being. Especially one with so many needs. Just like Dean took care of Sam and Adam. He smiled weakly. Hands reaching up to hold Dean's face in his hands. He was almost thirteen, sprouting up like a weed, and he didn't have far to reach on Dean.

"Mom." He said, Dean's glassy eyes trailing over his face. Almost like he didn't really see him there. "Dean," he tried, this time proving no movement in his eyes.

"I-I know that, um, well that you're not really my mom." He started, eyes dropping in shame. He didn't want to believe the words himself. For so long, that's all he knew Dean as. Dean's shoulders dropped, a frown swimming across his face. He might have been stuck inside his memories, but he had definitely heard that.

"It doesn't matter though. I don't care. I know you will get mad when I say this, but I don't give a shit if you aren't really the one that gave birth to me. Because that's not what a mom is. A mom is someone w-who takes care of you, who kisses your owies, and who hugs you when you're sad." He trembled out.

"I-I'm scared Dee." He blinked. The glaze sinking and fog lifting from his sight. He blinked again, clenching his eyes tighter. When he opened them, his baby brother stood, eyes swimming with unshed tears, small hands trying to pull Dean from the depths within himself. He was still so young. A baby really, how Dean will always see him. The first baby he ever got to raise. His baby.

"Sammy?" A smile broke out across his face, the relief unable to contain the emotion back much longer. "Mom," he nearly yelled as he smashed into him. He was shocked, motionless for a brief second before he laughed. Sammy, his Sammy really did love him. Enough to see through all of the bad, only to pull him up from the darkness, nearly blinding him with his light.

He realized something, much like all the other times with his baby brother. He would never let anything bad happen to him, to either of them.

As they sat, huddled together on the concrete, his eyes wandered up at Cas. He was watching the two, struggling with wanting to give them their space, but also wanting to join their heartfelt embrace. He knew he had probably scared the ever-living shit out of him. He didn't even remember what had happened after Cas had opened that door. All he remembered was Sam.

Looking up at Cas, he knew he wouldn't let anything bad happen to him either.


	25. A Deal Must be Struck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean decides he should meet with Azazel, it was the best way of keeping everyone safe.

His hands shook. He was alone, again, and this time the silence didn't bother him. Adam was with John, Sam was at practice, and thankfully, Cas had to take care of his siblings while Naomi was gone. So he had time. Enough time to figure everything out.

He found the rumpled up business card, one that had sat in John's wallet ever since they left the hospital. Dean had pointedly ignored all of the therapy/group talk cards in favor of finding his card. Officer Lafitte, the one that was there that day. He couldn't really remember him, his dad hadn't let anyone aside from the doctors come into close contact with him that day. Barely let the boys see him either. But all Dean remembered was that John had said Officer Lafitte would be watching Alistair during his hospital stay.

He really didn't know what the hell Castiel had done to him. Enough to permit his stay in the hospital for over a month. The thought brought a chill down Dean's spine. He knew it was probably his fault, he was the reason Cas had gone darkside.

No.

He shook the thought from his mind. He couldn't think like that. Cas didn't see it like that, so he shouldn't either. Dean wasn't some damsel that couldn't fight off the big bad man. He was just a kid that was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

He rolled his eyes. Wrong place. His own fucking home?

He breathed through his nostrils heavily.

The stages of his healing went pretty normally. He hated himself that first week. Didn't want to touch himself and couldn't think of anything that would ever give him carnal pleasure. Didn't think he would ever want that. But Cas, he was different. They weren't doing the do, but Dean wanted to be able to want that. To be a normal teenager with raging hormones and not stupid anxiety over sex.

Alistair had taken that from him. He wouldn't let Azazel do the same thing. Not when he could do something to prevent it.

He dialed the number clumsily. Fingers shaking with the effort of trying to be brave. He could do this. His chest felt tight, trying to release the next breath with feigned ease. Yeah, he could do this.

"Sheriff's department, Officer Lafitte speakin," a southern voice belted out casually.

Oh shit.

What the hell was he thinking? He couldn't do this! He was fucking terrified, but involving the police? He could get arrested or-or-

"John, that you?" He asked. He tried to find the words, or, any words.

"I thought I recognized the numba, but you ain't speaking none chief." He paused, settling back amongst his desk files when the realization hit him. He sat forward, nearly knocking half of his files over. "Dean?" He froze.

"Um, h-hi...officer..." He spoke quietly. Lafitte laughed, a full heavy laugh that actually eased some of the tension in Dean's shoulders.

"What's goin' on brother, you healin fine?" He asked smoothly. He had remembered John saying Dean was better with yes or no questions. That he could do. Easy peasy. He received a confirmation in the form of a hummed out mhm. Short and to the point, he probably had a reason to be calling.

"Everythin all right?" 

He didn't reply. His hands were trembling, the hand not holding the phone he quickly sat on to hide the tremors. He opened his mouth. Nothing. He huffed in frustration. No, he needed help, he was not doing this now.

"Officer Lafitte, I-um, well, I-I t-think I might be-might be in trouble..." He managed weakly. He was quick to get oout of his seat, finding his belt rather quickly and slinging it around his waist.

"Where you at 'cher, I'll be there in a minute." He was pulling his jacket on, hat nearly toppling off his head in his hurried haste. Dean sat down heavily on the couch. No questions asked...he just wanted to help him. That was...unexpected.

"Um, well, home, but it's nothing bad right now. Dad'll freak if he sees the patrol car here, probably think I'm in trouble again." He was rambling he knew it, but he didn't want to admit that someone else was trying to hurt him. He had hoped he was being paranoid.

"Are you?"

"Am I what?" He wasn't used to this much talking, holding up a conversation, he got lost easily in the replies.

"In trouble?" He paused. Trouble wasn't really the right word to describe it. Royally screwed. In danger. Grasping for straws. Without a cause. Fucked. Yeah, any one of those could apply.

"Something like that."


	26. Castiel intervenes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He knows something is up with Dean, he's been more quiet than usual.

It shouldn't have bothered him. Why was he so frustrated? It was just Dean, barely saying more than a handful of words to him throughout this entire week.

The only person in the world that could both worry and frustrate him beyond no end was Dean Winchester. How he hadn't burst into the Winchester home, demanding for answers yet, was still a surprise to him.

Something was going on. Something he knew he wouldn't like for one second.

Dean was quiet at school, rarely held conversations with their friends, and just clung to Castiel's side. It should have been a nice thought, that he was acting as Dean's anchor while he dealt with his emotions, he trusted Cas enough to protect him.

Except he knew that wasn't the case right now.

What the hell had he been thinking? Staying after gym to take a shower? Did he know what could happen there?

He was still waiting by the mouth of the locker room. He noticed the new counselor was standing nearby, talking to the coach about nothing in particular. The man looked gruff, his big persona, southern accent, yeah it was weird. Getting a new counselor right around the time Dean started speaking even less than before.

He didn't know what part that guy played, but he didn't trust him.

It took all of three minutes before he noticed Dean was taking longer than usual. He froze, only for a brief second, before he was propelling himself back into the locker room, nearly smacking into the wall.

The tiled floors were slick beneath his sneakers, squeaking out their displeasure as he rounded the first row. He could hear the shower running, but as he peaked around the wall barrier no one was there.

"Dean?" He called.

No one answered.

"Dean!" He yelled, ready to start freaking out in 3...2...

"Cas?" Dean said from behind him. He nearly jumped out of his skin. He spun around on him, hands clutching his shoulders as he stared the other boy down. He wanted to shake him, ask him what the hell took him so long, but instead pulled him into a tight embrace.

"Don't ever do that again." He sighed into Dean's neck. He felt him let out a huff in amusement.

"Never take a shower again? Got to say Cas, didn't know you liked it THAT dirty." He pulled away, the severity of the situation clearly not written on his face.

"No, Dean, I meant not to put yourself in harm's way." He removed his hands, giving Dean space, hopefully enough to see how much worse this could have been. Cas had luckily been the one to find him this time. Next time...

Dean rolled his eyes, waving Cas' concerns off, of course Cas didn't know he had a cop in his back pocket right now, which explains his response. His eyes nearly popped out of his skull, he stood there dumbly, mouth trying to open and say to Dean what he really wanted to say, but instead stood their like a fish drowning.

"Its been two months Cas, I feel fine." He paused, actually taking in the words. They were...pretty true. He was fine, feeling better than he had in a long time. Cas seemed to notice how much calmer he looked. He hadn't had a panic attack in days, his eyes no longer bore heavy bags crying for restful sleep.

Maybe he was doing better?

"Well, just, uh, just don't do that in the locker room again. This seems to be a rather auspicious place for someone to try and hurt you."

* * *

He had a hand keeping Adam from running into traffic and the other in Cas'. Their brothers walked behind them, talking about events that had occurred during their days. Anna was hanging on to Cas' back, arms dangling loosely around his neck, her feet kicking along with each step.

It was a good day, yes, they had the whole pack today, but that wasn't something to worry too much over. He and Cas could effectively watch all four of the kids.

It was bright out today, the first Saturday of spring and Dean honest-to-God wanted to frolic. The grass was no longer graying from winter, now vibrant with greens that seemed to reveal a whole pallet of tones. Petals of flowers turned toward them as they walked to the park.

It was perfect.

And that was when he felt the eyes on his neck. He didn't stop walking, he knew he had to pretend that he knew he wasn't there. It was getting more difficult, because he was almost always there. Just watching.

Never trying to touch him, hurt him, or even make any deals with him.

He just watched. Patiently. And it was terrifying.

He couldn't raise his baby brothers if he was too busy looking over his shoulder everywhere he went. But that didn't matter, he was going to fake it until he made it.

And by made it, he means, hopefully Benny finding enough evidence to arrest Azazel.

But these things just took time. Time he feared he was running out of. Each time he felt those disgusting eyes on him felt like another nail in the coffin.

Azazel was planning something. Benny was digging, he was hitting a lot of bumps though, with him being a minor it was nearly impossible looking into his record. All he had so far were his coincidental appearances near Dean.

That definitely wasn't enough.

So he just had to wait. Wait until Benny either found something or until Azazel finally grabbed him.

He prayed for the former.

But just like after his mother died. His prayers rarely ever received an answer.

* * *

It took him nearly three months to perfect his plan. Had Dean almost sure he was going to be fine. But with a strong infiltratable group like that, he needed time.

Enough time to catch him unaware.

He caught him, walking home from school. The sky was darkening, Sam had started baseball this year, one of his games was today, it seemed that Dean had to walk back to the house for something.

The game was supposed to be over, the festivities next on the agenda. A shame Dean wouldn't be there to join them.

He caught him before he had even rounded the corner into their neighborhood. Hands forcefully bringing him to the ground, a knee finding a way into the small of his back.

They struggled, Dean's face mashing into the ground of the nearby foliage, hands scrambling, trying to buck him off.

The nearby light helped him to witness the struggle. God he loved watching him squirm. He went for a handful of hair, ready to manhandle him into whatever position pleased him.

So many to choose, so many he had imagined.

What he hadn't imagined was the shaking of his shoulders. He had hoped for fear, yes, got off on the thought of Dean's trembling figure.

But he wasn't shaking from fear, he seemed to be...laughing.

As his hand found the back of his head, hair already shifting in his fingers, he realized a moment later.

It wasn't Dean.

"Y'know, I knew that someone was watching us. I'll be honest, I'm ashamed to say I didn't suspect you Azazel." He knew that voice. 

Castiel.

He growled in frustration, sending Cas' face right into the dirt with a indignant shove of his hand. He shifted, trying to get his hands beneath him, anything to get that psycho off of him.

He found himself putting all of his weight onto the younger boy, hips resting on the crest of his ass. If he couldn't have Dean, he'd have to make do with Castiel.

He heard Cas snarling beneath him. A challenge, he thought with a smirk. Nothing like taking down a confident, strong man, and crushing him into a terrified little boy.

He pawed at Cas' jeans with his free hand, scratching the skin of his hips, digging his nails into his waist. He wanted to mark him. Show him exactly what he would have done to Dean, what he wanted to do to him. He leaned over him mouthing at the back of his neck.

He was going to take Dean's surprise and give it to Cas. Dean wouldn't ever want to touch him again. He had to be removed from the equation altogether.

This wasn't enough, he thought to himself, hands removing themselves from the waistband of his jeans. He didn't want Castiel. He wanted Dean. It had always been Dean.

He managed to roll himself beneath Azazel's loosening grip. He looked up, eyes nearly darkened to black as he reached out for the other boy.

Another one. Another stupid fickle person wanted to hurt Dean. He felt that familiar darkness seizing his veins. It wanted him to hurt someone. It wanted blood. And right now, more than anything. He wanted Azazel's blood.

He shoved him off of his chest, sending him tumbling back onto his ass in surprise. Little bastard was stronger than he looked. The two scrambled to their feet. Hunched down, hands clenched into tight fists, and teeth bared. It was like watching two wolves battle for dominance.

They ignored the sounds of the quiet street. Only focused on two things, the sound of their own hearts beating, and the other's eyes. There was a pause right before the two took a running start at the other. It was filled with only one thing.

"Mine," Cas growled out, lunging forward. He knew he was talking about Dean, and he couldn't have that. Dean wasn't meant for a happy-go-lucky life. He was meant to kneel at his feet, taking whatever he wanted to give him.

Right now he wanted to give him Castiel's head.


	27. I need a hero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just like Hercules saves Meg, but with Cas and Dean. Or some shit like that.

The game had dwindled down, the second to last inning taking place, Sam was busy minding his own business in the dug out. He could tell from here Sam was trying to play it cool, like he hadn't just scored his first home run. He couldn't help but smile at that.

Sammy was just growing up. Making his own little life, and judging from the people swarmed around him and his family, all in support of Sam, he was making friends too. He looked over at his father. John looked tired. A weary smile sat lazily on his face, he looked perfectly content to just sit on the shitty bleachers and watch the middle schoolers running around. Adam was burrowed into Dean's chest, after having tired himself out, running around, beneath, and in front of the stands, he was also content to sit there and do nothing.

He looked seconds away from falling off into a heavy sleep. He turned, feeling Cas' hand gently rubbing across his shoulders, and couldn't fight the warmth he felt rushing through his stomach.

And to think, Cas was the cause of it. No one else could make him feel that way.

"Adam looks seconds from giving in to sleep." He said, a light smile across his lips, the one radiating behind his eyes revealed how he really felt.

He hadn't told Dean. He was obviously waiting, he didn't want to scare him off, especially with something as momentous as that. He thought, eyes softly trailing over Dean and his baby brother. He wanted one of those. Perhaps he and Dean would one day have children of their own. Not that Sam and Adam weren't enough, he had hoped to be graduated before he had kids.

"Yes, its getting a little colder, I should have brought a blanket." He began, trying to shift the boy in his arms.

He didn't budge, nuzzling his face into Dean's neck, muttering out in a small voice, "No mama," which instantly made Castiel melt. Yes, he'll admit, their relationship was an interesting one, but it was one that never ceased to amaze him. Dean really did love those boys, like they were his own children. Which was pretty standard, considering he had raised them, basically on his own. He lifted his arm from around him, leaning in and giving him a quick peck on the cheek.

"Don't worry darling, I can fetch one." Dean looked at him, that look of surprise and utter gratitude that made Castiel feel so...important. It was always a sure-fire way to get his cheeks tinting pink. I mean, it was just a quick walk back to the house, it really wasn't that much of a problem for him. He could be there and back in ten minutes flat. Dean looked like he wanted to say something. He had both of his hands around Adam, wrapped carefully around his little bum, trying to give his torso as much warmth as he could provide. He moved one hand, careful to keep the boy tucked close, as he reached out and found Cas' hand.

He looked down, having nearly been prepared to leave, he hadn't expected Dean to pull him in. Giving him the quickest kiss on the lips, he wasn't even sure if that had happened, or if he had imagined it.

He stood there, half bent forward, and dazed, eyes closed softly. When had he shut his eyes? God, he had forgotten how soft Dean's lips were. They hadn't kissed since his birthday, almost three months ago. It was definitely the best kiss he had ever received.

"Hurry back." Dean said, effectively pulling Cas' attention from his thoughts. He opened his eyes, blush creeping up once more. Yes, he would definitely be back, as quick as he could manage.


	28. Time after Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean realizes something is wrong. But is he too late?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long, I get lazy about adding more chapters, mainly because if it ends I'll be bummed.

It was taking too long.

He realized that nearly five minutes ago. But he had wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps he had gotten caught up with something else, or maybe he was putting the blanket in the dryer so it could be as warm as possible for him. Maybe he was doing his homework?

Yeah, that last one was when he knew he didn't have any more excuses. Now he was worried. Adam was almost nine, he was still little though, so holding him like this never bothered him. An eight year old only seemed heavy when they lost all consciousness. This was the only time it bothered him.

"Dad?' John turned, almost surprised to hear him speaking toward him.

It shouldn't have been that surprising, he had said a few words to him throughout the last week or so. Mainly one-word sentences, but still. It counts. John looked over at him, sitting up and leaning in, just in case he wanted to whisper. That alone was enough to make him frown. When the hell had John become so...considerate? He shook the thought off, instead gesturing toward his sleeping brother. Of course, Dean's body language had become easy to read, he had never asked for much, but when he did, his eyes said it all.

Forests of inquisition and a wariness that set even him on edge.

"You want me to take the kid?" He asked. If he's being honest, which in his sober state of mind, he was a lot of the time. He hadn't touched either of the younger boys beyond a directing hand or a careful nudge. Something inside just made him feel like, well, like he didn't deserve it.

But as soon as the question left his mouth, Dean was maneuvering Adam over into his lap. Yes, it bothered him the way Adam pawed after him, a sigh of "mom," leaving his lips. Why wouldn't it? They were brothers. It was just...just wrong. When he settled against his chest, uncaring of who he was cuddled up against, he forgot for a brief moment how to breathe.

His hands froze around his body. Fingers trembling with emotion. He looked over at Dean, who was confused by his sudden display of trepidation. His eyes forced back tears. He was not going to cry. Not because he...he got to hold his baby boy...

"Dad?" He questioned, worry evident on his face and in his tone. He shook his head, hands gently wrapping around his son. The last time he had held him, he had been so much smaller, but it felt so much more now. He had been buzzed when the doctor had handed him the baby, saying his mother died in childbirth, leaving John's name as the father. He didn't recognize her, probably some alcohol-induced night cap that he had forgotten about the day after.

"I-I-I," his voice drifted off. He wanted to say he was fine, really, but he was more than that. He was relieved. This was his son. His boy. He looked up from Adam's sleeping face, tucked gently into his chest, and found Dean's eyes already trained on him. He was caught, like a deer in the headlights. He was intruding, he knew it. Dean didn't want him holding or even touching either of the boys.

A month of learning everything about them didn't count, Dean had spent their entire lives caring for them. What the fuck was he good for besides a paycheck? His gaze dropped, he didn't deserve any of his children. Looking down at his youngest once more, he realized something.

The way Adam's nose looked so button-like, so sweet and pink with the light chill in the air. The way his mouth twitched with amusement from whatever dreams roamed in his mind. He was just so.......pure. So opposite of everything that John could and ever would be. He didn't meet Dean's eyes again, now staring at the silver of the stands beneath his feet. He didn't want to jinx it. He would let Dean do whatever he had originally planned, and if he wanted him back afterwards...well, he would...just....give him back. He thought, shoulders dropping in disappointment.

"We're fine Dean, you can go do what you needed to do." He said.

Had it have been two months ago, Dean would have flinched away at the comment. The phrase sounded so dismissive and abrupt, like an order. But the tone in which he used, it was so unlike what he had grown use to hearing. It sounded flat. More dejectedly than anything. Like he was coming to terms with something that Dean didn't know about.

If he had more time, he would have pressed the issue.

But he didn't, so he couldn't. One problem at a time.

He got up, only sending one more look of concern back toward his baby brother and his father. He didn't want to leave him alone with that man, but he didn't really have another choice, Naomi was gone with Gabe and Anna. He jumped down from the stands, nodding to himself. Adam was going to be fine. He knew it. He just had to trust his father.

He almost laughed. Wasn't that some kind of fucked up sense of shit? He couldn't trust his own dad to leave his baby brother with. He huffed out, slipping away into the slowly darkening night. When he came back, if everything was all right, then he would trust him.

Well...as much as he was willing to anyway.

* * *

He was breathing heavily. He couldn't help it. He was scared.

Well, that was putting it lightly.

He was fucking terrified.

He had almost arrived to their street when he heard the sounds. Yes, he wanted to ignore them in favor of running home. But something inside him, deep inside, the part that never got the light of day. Told him to follow the noises erupting from the foliage.

It wasn't that dark not to notice the two figures. It was too dark to notice which was being shoved right at him. He didn't move fast enough, feeling the person's back smash into his chest, nearly sending him down onto the ground. Absently, he wrapped his arms around them, trying to maintain both of their balances.

The person fought his hold, nearly foaming at the mouth as he snarled out his distaste of Dean's hands on him. The hit should have been expected, but he wasn't paying attention. He was too focused on the other person coming into the light around the street lamp. It was Cas.

He looked wild, eyes unfocused on his surroundings, only zeroed in on the person in Dean's grip. His hair was a mess, it looked like three bird families had claimed home on his head. He didn't seem like he even noticed he was there, to crazed to think about anything other than the person jerking out of his grasp. The person turned, giving Dean a strong handed shove to his chest, and sending him down onto the ground.

The other person came into the light.

Azazel.

He froze, chest spasming with the need to breathe, but his brain wouldn't let him. Too busy trying to preserve his own life. Trying to get his arms to move, to push himself up, or his legs to run away. But no one was listening. All he knew was Azazel knew exactly who it was.

He took a step toward him, sending Dean into an even raspier frenzy. Fucking shit. It was happening all over again. He closed his eyes, body finally cooperating with his brain, just enough to bring his hands up to shield his face.

But it seems that right when Azazel recognized him, so did Cas.

"Get the fuck away from him." He turned...he had never heard him sound so...rough.

The yellow-eyed bastard didn't move, lecherous smile creeping onto his face. He took a daring step forward, causing him to shrink back. Fuck. When had his lungs become so big for his ribs? Where the hell was Cas? He crawled back on his hands, finding some semblance of control. If he could just get back up to his feet he would be all right.

"Oh Dean, don't you look so pretty on the ground like that. Right where you belong." He sneered.

He tried looking past him, tried to catch a glimpse of Cas' wild hair or those beautiful blues, but he only came up with emptiness.

Cas was gone.

Azazel turned, following his sudden change in gaze, smiling when he realized the interruption was gone. Now he was alone with Dean. He could finally do everything he had ever dreamt of. The boy was still stuck on the empty space where his little lover boy had once stood. Too caught up on the thought of being abandoned to notice him crouching down in front of him. He didn't even think when his fingertips found their way beneath his chin, turning his attention onto those yellow monsters.

"Don't worry little pet, he couldn't help you," he breathed, nose brushing along his cheek. "He's too weak to take care of you, but I know just what to do with you. I can take care of you Dean." He pulled away an inch, nose nearly caressing Dean's, and he licked his lips. He was so close, so damned close to taking what he wanted, what he deserved.

Of course he was shocked. Cas had left him. He had gone. Like, gone gone. Disappeared without a trace, leaving Dean to his own demise. He could barely even think, let alone tug himself out of Azazel's grasp. Maybe he was right. Cas didn't want him. Cas thought he was too much trouble to deal with and left him to his own devices, to have to take care of himself for a change.

That was what he always feared. The day the boys left. The day John would die. The day no one needed him anymore.

He would be left only with himself. The one person he hated more than anyone else on earth.

That is, besides Alistair. He would never forgive that monster.

"C'mon beautiful, let's get you home." He hissed into Dean's ear.

His hands found their way around Dean's upper arms. Even the touch of him felt evil, felt so morally wrong that he wanted to soak in holy water. He wanted to rip his own flesh off, it was tainted. By another stupid person that thought he couldn't take care of himself. By someone that thought they could just do with him what they pleased. That they could push him around, take whatever atrocities they enacted on him.

To be the good little bitch, just like Alistair said he was.

He didn't realize his breathing was no longer strained by fear, more broken in anger. Huffing out his hatred for the other boy. He was livid. Cas had left him. Abandoned him. Like he meant nothing. It did not surprise him when his father jumped into his thoughts. John always said he was nothing. That he was and never would be good enough. He wasn't smart enough. He wasn't strong enough. He wasn't fast enough, obedient enough, complacent, satisfied, or happy with all that he had provided.

Even when he provided nothing but shit and pain.

Just like this fucking moron in front of him.

He didn't need to go home. Home was where his boys were. He didn't need Castiel. Or his deadbeat father. He didn't need Officer Lafitte. Obviously he wasn't reliable enough to help him when he really needed it. He didn't need anyone to save him.

That thought had his hands shaking. Somehow they had balled up into tight fists, struggling to contain his newfound rage.

Azazel hadn't lifted him to his feet, still trying to paw at his torso, enjoying Dean's silence more than anything else. He hadn't seen the fist flying directly at his face.

But he certainly felt it.

He didn't need anyone to save him. Not when...he could do it himself.

Azazel was clutching his jaw, the hit not enough to bring him to his knees, but placed well enough to jar him. What the hell was up with these boys today? Thinking they could take him in a fight. It was so unbalanced, unfair, really. But if that's how he wanted to play, fine. He was going home with him one way or another. He shook himself, watching Dean scramble back up to his feet in a low crouch. He had never seen this side of him. The feral animal that lashed out when attacked.

He liked a challenge, but this, this was a gift from the gods.


	29. That's it.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's been everyone's punching bag, never wanted to hurt anyone ever, but now? Yeah, he's goin' ape shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All your fucking comments make my life, I do like keeping you on the edge of your seats, hold on to your hats bitches.

He hadn't expected it. Hadn't expected himself to act in such a manner.

He really hadn't expected that.

Azazel was surging forward, intent on bring Dean back down to the ground, a place where he thought he belonged. But nobody put him where he didn't want to be. Not anymore. He was going to show this sack of shit exactly who the hell he was messing with.

He felt the force tingling behind his shoulder blades, like his arms were readying for another swing. Which is exactly what he was expecting to do. Knock that stupid smile off of his face. As soon as he was within reach, he swung, wind nearly ripping in half around the force of his fist. He knew how to fight. Seen his father do it enough times to get the gist of it. Make a fist and try not to break anything while hitting the other person.

As his knuckles connected with the side of that yellow-eyed bastard's cheek bone, he nearly cried. It felt so sharp, so hard beneath his hands, the two hard forces cracked against one another. Only one of the two cradling their injuries. Azazel stood, giving his jaw a quick stretch, kid had an impressive swing. He watched, body no longer posed in a low lunge, he couldn't help but stare as Dean held onto his hand.

It was sweet, watching him struggle like that. Like he, such a delicate little flower, was trying to pretend he was strong. It made him chuckle.

"I AM strong you stupid son of a bitch." Dean growled out.

He smiled. Didn't know he had spoken aloud, but if a reaction like that welcomed him, he would gladly do that again. He righted himself, giving his clothes a definite shake, and took an unnoticed step closer. He was about to test another step when those pretty little eyes looked up. God he wanted to just gouge those little globes right out of his skull. They were so perfect. So unlike his or Alistair's eyes. He wanted to put them in a little jar, keep them forever.

Dean had created a wider distance, no doubt mistrusting the look in his eyes. Like he gave a shit anymore. He was willing to throw everything down the drain, just so he could keep that kid. Shouldn't he be grateful? Dean was looking around, just like his little boyfriend had been minutes earlier. Trying to find anything he could use to hurt him. Not much else did. He was raised on fresh beatings and taught how to serve them right back. As his little globes lifted upwards once more, he went for it.

Lunging forward, body connecting right against Dean's chest. The rough coughing gasp singing out beside his ear as he brought the two back down to the ground.

They rolled. Dean trying to get an advantage on him, to get that sick fuck from off of his body. He hated this feeling, feeling so much smaller and weaker than someone else. Which was some feat, he and Azazel nearly stood toe to toe. He almost divulged into how he felt small around anyone, not just Azazel, but he figured now wasn't the proper time for that shit. He shoved Azazel's shoulder, pushing him up just enough so he could smack his face, but he caught hold of his free hand before any moves could be made.

He was trapped, one hand pinned beside his head, the other trying to keep that monster as far away from him as possible. He was just glad Azazel had to use his free hand to balance himself, instead of going after him. They struggled. Trying to get the other to drop their hold, but remained in their tight positions. He was smiling, a shark-like smile that nearly cut through his cheeks. His lower half was lying right on top of Dean's, he could feel his legs trying to wind around his, to trap him even further. But that wasn't what bothered him the most.

What bothered him, bringing back painful memories of his shit friend Alistair, was the grinding down of his pelvis. He could feel the weight of his excitement rubbing into his upper thigh, nearly brushing over his own privates. He was far from pleased though. He was scared shitless. And angry. God. He was so angry, he wanted to kill this monster, hit him with whatever was handy.

He knew he had to think fast, or else he really would be screwed. He had to think with his head, not with his emotions. Those only made him want to panic, piss himself, and cry. But he wasn't going to do that. Not anymore. He could take care of himself. He just had to find the strength to get his hand out of his hold.

Azazel tried leaning his head down, tongue darting out between his lips, hissing his satisfaction at how his arm shook. He was getting tired, wouldn't be able to hold him back much longer, and that would be his chance.

He was worried now, his arm was shaking with the effort of keeping that sick fuck's face away. But it was his head that made him stop. He shouldn't be trying to push him away. He should be running at him full speed. Just like a fucking bull.

So he rammed him, right in that god forsaken nose. His forehead crushed the cartilage, bringing tears to his eyes and blood instantly squirting from his nose. He released his wrist, moving back to grab ahold of the damage that had been inflicted. Dean took that open chance, bringing his leg up, kicking right into Azazel's chest, sending his back thudding into the dirt. Right where that piece of crap belonged.

He rolled over onto his hands and knees, scrambling fast, just trying to climb over him. Be the one in charge for once in his stupid life. Why did everyone think they could just push him? Push him until he caved, did whatever they wanted. Because that wasn't who he was, he wasn't a weak quitter. And he certainly wasn't anyone's bitch.

His knees dug into his chest, pinning him down to the ground while he let out a snarl. He was done. That was it. He was going to make an example out of anyone that dared to try and touch him against his will again. He drew his arm back, fingers still throbbing from the last hit, but he didn't care. He wasn't going to stop until that rat bastard was bleeding everywhere. It was hard to tell in the dark, just how bloody he already was, but judging from the black tar-like substance that suctioned onto Dean's hand, right as he swung down, he guessed it was a fair amount.

But it still wasn't enough.

* * *

He was sprinting, thankful for every run he had ever went on that gave him this speed. The speed that it took jumping over their neighbor's bushes, around his mailbox, and skipping all of the steps leading to his house. He had to call the cops and John and his mother. Fucking anyone that would listen. But most importantly, as he stumbled into the backyard, Anna and Adam's toys littering the grass, he knew he had to get back to Dean.

He didn't know what he had been thinking. He had hoped Dean would either make a run for it, or be able to hold him back long enough for Cas to arrive with provisions. He searched the grass, shadows of toy balls, twin bikes, and a plastic baseball bat caught his eye.

Sure, it wasn't aluminum, but he would definitely make do. He snatched it up into his hands, smacking the thick end into his open palm. The smack that resonated throughout the yard was enough to bring a smile to his face. Yeah, that fucker was going to get it. He turned, shoving the door open and aside as he hurried for the home phone. He really only had to make one call. Say what you wanted about his mother. That she was a control freak or too demanding for wanting her kids to keep their rooms clean, but she was not the broad to mess with.

He was quick to punch in her cell phone. He didn't even know what he had said when she had answered, only caught brief mentions of 'Dean,' 'cops,' and 'John.' That was all that really needed to be said. He could hear her questions coming through the other end of the line, not really hearing her, instead he dropped the phone, letting the cord catch it before it connected with the ground. He did what he had to. Now he was going to do what he wanted to.

* * *

When he arrived back to the place in which he and Azazel had started fighting, Dean was wailing on the guy. Just giving it right to him, each hit sending his dumb head smashing into the grass. He paused, in both amusement and an overwhelming feeling of impression. His Dean, his little broken Dean, what everyone said would never be able to stand up for himself, that Castiel would always have to take care of him, was beating the shit out of his oppressor.

He really should have been paying attention to his hands. Thinking Dean had the upper hand, considering he was positioned over the guy, but Azazel's hands were free. Thanks to Dean's heavy hits smacking down on him. He saw the faint gleam of a small blade, no bigger than that belonging to a pocketknife, glaring into his eyes as Azazel shifted.

He ran forward, trying to catch Dean before that knife took root within him. He wouldn't let anything happen to him. He couldn't, not after the last time.

"Dean!" He screamed. Dean stopped, looking up at Cas, like he had just pulled him out of whatever vengeful desire he was entrapped in. It was just the distraction Azazel needed.

He thrust his hand up, blade piercing Dean's side, catching him by surprise. He gasped, eyes wide with shock. Holy shit. He lost.

Dean slid off of him, dropping down, trying to keep his weight off of the knife still stuck into his side. Oh God, he had just been stabbed. He could feel his lungs start to pick up their pace, trying to handle all of the adrenaline that was pumping through his body. Azazel got to his feet, spitting out a mouthful of blood, he had just enough time to send a kick into Dean's back before Cas got to him.

Dean screamed, body arching with the impact, causing the knife to twist in him. He could feel his shirt warming against his skin. He brought his hands down, trying to be mindful of the obstruction in his abdomen. Wet. His hands were wet with something.

He lifted them up, letting the blood soak up into his shirt, and caught the street light. Dark red laughed out at him. He wanted to panic, to throw up, why was he always seeing his own blood. That shit was supposed to stay in his body. Oh God. He was panicking, he could feel the protrusion just barely touching his lung. It made him shiver. Holy shit. He had been stabbed. Azazel had actually stabbed him. He tried to shift, just to see what the hell was going on. But his vision swam in his eyes.

All he saw was Cas clutching a yellow bat, aiming right at Azazel's head.

He was livid. Livid and scared out of his wits. That darkness took over him, and this time, he let it. He didn't care about restraining himself, trying to to injure Azazel too badly. Yeah, he had hurt Alistair pretty badly. If you think shoving a shard of glass into his neck was "pretty bad", then yeah. But just like then, he didn't care if he ended up full dark side. Whatever it took to keep anyone else from hurting Dean ever again.

So he hefted that bat up, the lightness not even a thought as it flew through the air, smacking right into Azazel's already bloody face. The bat dented in with the hit, but that didn't matter. He went for his legs next, connecting right with the back of his knee, forcing him to drop down. He brought his hands up trying to catch the bat, but it didn't help. If anything, it was just another thing for him to swing at.

Which is exactly what he did.

He swung at the back of his forearm, sending his hand smacking into his own face. That was enough to force him onto his back once more. Shot for shot. Azazel wanted to go for Dean's stomach. So would he.

He swung down, reigning down hit after hit, right into his ribs, his gut, and his stupid bladder. Azazel rolled, trying to protect himself now, no longer seeking blood but survival. He aimed for his kidneys, the hit forcing another dent into the bat, nearly bending it in half. He threw it aside. He didn't need that to prove a point. He climbed onto his back, sitting where Azazel had sat on him when he had thought he was Dean. The weight was enough to bring forth a whimper of pain out of him.

Good.

He placed his forearm down onto Azazel's shoulders, sending his face down into the dirt one last time. He leaned in, unaware of just how heavily he was breathing. The pinned man was weakened, no longer trying to buck the weight off of him. Body too beaten and exhausted to pull away from Castiel's mouth. He brought his lips down, right next to his ear, so he wouldn't miss a word of what he had to say.

"If you, or anymore of your fucking friends tries to touch him ever again," he seethed, trying to calm down enough to get out his next words. "I can assure you, a busted kidney and a broken leg won't be the message. Death will." He tried to get his hands beneath him, unable to hide the effort in his shoulders.

"Br-broken leg?" He asked.

The weight lifted from his back, something he never thought he would miss. He didn't roll over, suddenly over taken with fear over what he would do next. He felt hands patting down his thigh, stopping neatly at his knee. Cas pushed his waist, sending up sharp pain in his back and torso. He went, as unwillingly as possible, and saw what he could only describe as vengeance across Castiel's face. He looked nothing like that dorky kid he spotted always beside Dean. He looked...full of wrath. It was enough to send a twinge down into his already weakened bladder.

He never thought anything would scare him.

Never thought Castiel would be capable of shattering his leg. But he did.

His knee wasn't touching the ground, leg still stretched out, but knee lifted a few inches, until Castiel was satisfied. As he stood, lifting his foot right above his well placed knee, he felt his bladder give. Castiel stomped down, sending all of his weight and wrath down through his foot, snarling as it smashed to the ground with an audible crunch. He shot up, yelling out in pain, not caring for the ache in his back or the twinges in his stomach.

Castiel gave him a second, still standing over his body, he looked right on the verge of passing out. But that wouldn't do. Castiel wanted to be the one to put him down.

Azazel looked up, tears and snot streaming down his face, he felt nauseous. Castiel didn't even seem fazed, his face was blank, no anger or hate painting his true feelings. He just looked down at him as if he was nothing. He reared his fist back, expression remaining blank as he delivered the knock out blow.

And then everything faded to black.


	30. Patching up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I left you guys hanging for a while. My B, I promise, I'll do it like 3 more times and then that'll be the last time I do it. I'm almost sure of it.

He didn't know how it happened so fast, he had just finished delivering Azazel's punishment, had just felt himself breathe for the first time since he had seen Dean fall.

But suddenly, he was wearing a pair of handcuffs, getting roughly shoved into a police car. The pain in his face, his hands, his whole being really, didn't catch up with him as he fought against their hold. He could only fight, trying to get back to Dean, kicking and snarling like a wild animal as the ambulance lifted Dean onto that gurney.

John was going to be pissed. He knew that much. Someone hurt his kid. A-fucking-gain. Like seriously? As for him? John asked him if he could trust him to watch over Dean.

But he had failed.

So he fought, trying to rip himself out of three police officers tightening grips. When he wasn't trying to dig his heels into the dirt, he was kicking out, too focused on Dean not to notice their dodges.

If his hands hadn't have been cuffed behind his back, he would have been in a lot more trouble.

He didn't stop, not until he heard the familiar gruff bark of John Winchester. 

"CASTIEL STOP!!!" Running into view, he weaseled his way between the officers. Not paying any mind to their glares.

"He's fine, let him go." He called over his shoulder. He was breathing heavily, trying to reign in his inner demons.

"Sir, I'm afraid we can't do that. He just assaulted two other boys. We'll need to take him in." One of the officers replied.

"He didn't assault anyone that didn't fuckin need it. That bastard was hurting my son, Castiel stopped him from doing anything worse." He seethed.

"The son whose leg is shattered or the one bleeding from a knife wound?"

John paled. He looked over at Cas, trying to decipher just how far he would go to protect Dean. It wouldn't be the first time he had stabbed somebody for his son.

"Dean?"

Cas struggled in their hold, still tight around his arms. He had to calm down, just enough that when he spoke it didn't sound like the incredible Hulk answering.

"B-broke," he paused, taking another short breath. "I broke Azazel's leg." He jerked away, sending the officer on his left a smite filled stare.

"After he stabbed my boyfriend."

Those seemed to be the magic words. Both of them dropped their hold, turning their eyes toward the ambulance driving off with that monster strapped in the back.

"He was trying to hurt Dean..." he trailed. Eyes now downcast, the adrenaline in his body vanishing. When he lifted his eyes, tears swam behind them, shocking all of the cops.

Seeing him like this, they didn't even remember him acting like a savage beast. They felt...remorseful...mainly because they had grabbed the wrong guy.

"He tried to-" his voice dropped. He hadn't thought about it. Not until now. But Azazel hands around his waist was something he didn't think he would ever forget. Azazel would have tried to rape him, if he hadn't have fought back like he did.

"Tried to...to touch me." His shoulders dropped, and suddenly John was rubbing a heavy hand down his face. This was too much. They were just highschooler. Kids. Fucking children basically.

"He thought I was Dean, he would have done that to Dean if I hadn't have went in his stead. He could have hurt him, just like him, like that vile monster." The tears steaming down his face weren't sad, but angry.

He was so angry. Why would anyone want to hurt Dean? It was...well, Dean. He loved his baby brothers, was always kind and considerate to his friends, and he was just...GOOD.

He felt John's hand landing on his shoulders. He looked up, feeling so young suddenly.

"Dean will be all right. I know it, we can go to the hospital together. Dean might not want to admit it, but he's a fighter."

Cas couldn't help but laugh through his tears. The memory of Azazel's head repeatedly hitting the ground from Dean's fist played through his mind. Yes. He was a fighter all right.

He felt the cuffs releasing their hold on him. He was raised proper, knew he had acted out of sorts, especially toward those police officers. He had the decency to look ashamed.

"I apologize, I should not have acted out like that, especially toward you all. You were acting on what you believed was necessary." He rubbed his wrist, trying to keep his mind occupied on something besides his shame.

One of the cops laughed. A heavy laugh really, one that surprised everyone surrounding them. She wiped an errant tear from beneath her eye.

"Kid, you are really something else. You know that? One minute you're a rabid wolf, the next you're an apologetic boy with his hand in the cookie jar." One of the other officers laughed at the realization.

"Jody, he ain't some kid with his hand in a cookie jar. He's more a...well. I don't really know." He smiled, turning to look at Cas' face. "You really are something else."

The third officer, one he had realized had been the recipient of many of his wild kicks, didn't speak for a moment. It was enough to draw the silence of the other two. He folded his arms over his chest.

"Son, I ain't got much to say to ya, but you did the right thing. Yeah, you went a little overboard, but if someone had hurt my special someone, especially after they had already been hurt, I would have lost it too."

Cas nodded his thanks, offering a shy smile.

"My shins won't be thanking you later, but you stopped someone bad from hurting someone good." 

"Uh...thank you, I believe. Also, again, I do apologize for that. I didn't expect to get so out of hand."

The officer called Jody, spoke up. "If you fellas want a lift to the hospital, I can take you in the cruiser."

John seemed to contemplate that for a second, he looked over his shoulder, Sammy was standing off to the side, Adam plastered right next to him.

"The boys, I have to...Dean wouldn't want them to see him. Not until he was up and speakin." Cas followed his gaze. This was supposed to be a good day for Sam. Victory or not, he'd want to see Dean.

"Mr. Winchester, I don't mean to imply I know the boys any better than you do, but they'll want to see him as soon as possible. Make sure their mo-" he coughed. Looking around at the faces circling them, he corrected his choice of words.

Judging by the look on John's face, he knew what he was going to say.

"Their brother is safe."

With another long stare back at his youngest sons, he knew Castiel was right. They would want to be right there with him. He sighed.

"Fine, but you're sitting in the back with them."


	31. The Hospital Yet Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's in the hospital and the whole crew goes to visit him.

It was like a police blockade. Everyone walking down the halls of the hospital, following John's lead as they managed their way toward the emergency room. It hadn't taken long for both of Dean's boys to gravitate to Cas' side. Like they knew he would look out for them while Dean was gone. Which was exactly what he found himself doing.

As they reached the main desk, a small dark haired woman sat facing a computer. It didn't appear as if she was doing anything of import, or so he believed until she said,

"Ugh, I just died again. Stupid game, stupid parameters." John was less than excited to talk to her. But the other two behind the desk looked awful busy, so he took in a breath and cleared his throat.

"Hi, I believe my son was brought here, we want to check in with one of his doctors or a nurse, so we know how he's doing."

"Name?"

"John," He began, then caught himself, "I mean Dean." She looked up from her computer, eyebrow raised incredulously.

"Look pal, if this is some kind of-

After nearly getting his ass kicked by some douchebag, dealing with a police interview, and the drive cramped between Dean's brothers. Yeah, his patience had pretty much left. Resigned. Trip to Cabo. Never to be heard of again. So he interjected himself into their conversation rather politely, all things considered.

"I'm sorry, he hadn't understood your poorly worded question. I understand, you are probably under a lot of duress, dealing with whatever video game you seem to be applying all of your lasting brain cells to. We're looking for a Dean Winchester. See if you can find him for us. I would greatly appreciate it." Eyes narrowing on the last sentence.

She stared at him. Dried blood and discolored bruises painted his face. His eyes, though a charming color, held only ice and contempt as he sized her up. He was probably no more than sixteen, seventeen? Kid was pretty scary though. Instead of speaking, she nodded.

"Thank you. We'll be sitting over there -he pointed to the closest row of uncomfortable seats -I should like an answer as quickly as you can provide."

Steering the boys toward the beige-colored monstrosities, he found himself dropping heavily into his own seat, Sam close to his side. He's sure if the arm rests hadn't imposed, Sam would have settled himself right against his side. Instead, he seemed to pull away. Taking in his surroundings, sitting up straighter, and his arm protectively wrapped around Adam. It was hard not smiling at the picture. Sam was being the big brother. It was heart-warming. He could probably just stare at those boys for hours, but he felt John cautiously ease into the seat on his other side.

"So, uh, that...that thing you did back there. I ain't surprised you broke that kid's leg. What surprised the hell out of me was that you didn't break hers." He chuckled, dry and awkward. Castiel turned, face open in question. Sure, he had been a little curt with her...maybe a little more than a little. He responded with a non-commital shrug.

"She was acting like a petulant child. Really, improper work attitude, especially in an establishment such as this. I do not care if I hurt her feelings. There are more important things to worry about right now." He finished. At John's silence, he turned, addressing the man, wondering if he was going to oppose his actions. He was really not in the mood to enter another argument. As he met John's face though, all thoughts of an argument went flying out the window.

John had a smile, trying to break free beneath his mask of agreement. The kid looking over at him didn't help none. He looked like he had gotten into a fight with a pack of wild dogs, like he was seconds away from snarling right back. It was just...the properness in his voice. The way he spoke so eloquently, yet his facade bore that of a psychopath. The smile broke through. Before he knew it, his shoulders were shaking with laughter.

"Kid," he said between breaths, "You're one scary fucker. I'll give you that much."

He rolled his eyes, face now turned away from John's amused expression. He would deny it until the day he died. But a small smile crept onto his cheeks. Approval. That's what that sounded like.

The woman at the front desk made her way toward them, eyes trained down on her every step closer to that weirdo. Yeah, he was a nutjob all right. She steadied herself, pulling her shoulders back and lifting her chin.

"A Dean Winchester was delivered to our OR twenty minutes ago. It looks like he suffered a knife wound, one of his nurses will let me know how things are proceeding. If you would like, one of you may go up their and speak to her directly." She turned and managed her way back to the safety of her computer. 

Castiel and John found their eyes silently asking as to who would stay with the boys. Yes, John was sober, well-rested, and had been alone with the boys before. But, that didn't mean Castiel suddenly trusted him with the two most important beings in Dean's life.

"You should go, we'll be all right down here." He looked around him, eyes trying to catch Sam's or even Adam''s, just so he could offer them a small parting. Let them know he would be right back, but it was like they hadn't even noticed him. Too focused on their one true parent. Dean. He sighed, giving Cas a pat on his shoulder as he got to his feet.

"I'll be back when I found out how he's doin." He said, only speaking to him, too tired to fight for the boys' attention. The best he could do right now was to take care of Dean. The one that really mattered to them.

* * *

They had only been waiting three or four minutes when a ruckus started behind the emergency room doors. Three pairs of eyes followed the sound. Castiel got to his feet, standing in front of the boys as he tried to see through the small windows, not daring to step closer. The distance was fine. What wasn't fine was the double doors swinging open and a chorus of shouts erupting around the area.

Stomping through the entry way, trailed by three nurses and one doctor, was Officer Laffite. He had a cut on his temple, it looked deep and was swelling shut, but he didn't care.

"Sir, if you would like to refuse medical care, you must sign a release form. We cannot have you just sit up on the table while we're stitching the wound." A nurse spoke hurriedly. All four people trying to keep up with his quick pace. A soft clinging brought his attention down to the officer's wrist. One side of a pair of handcuffs was locked to his wrist. He shook it, obviously annoyed with the intrusion.

He marched over to the main desk, the woman looking more frightened than she was when Castiel had spoken to her. She was already holding a clipboard in her hands, waiting to offer him a pen, only shaking a little as he snatched it out of her hands.

"Listen here mon' cher. I'm lookin for the little bastard that knocked me out in my squad car. You go'n tell me which room he's in an I'd like to arrest him." Her shoulders seemed to drop, like she hadn't noticed his uniform until he said he was a police officer. Her eyes shifted to Castiel, wondering if he had had something to do with it. Before she said anything, Officer Laffite was already following her gaze.

"Castiel," he said, seeming to lose most of his anger. He hurried over to him, not caring if the cuff hit his knuckles along the journey.

"Where's Dean? I-is he all right?" He asked, nearly skidding to a stop in front of him. He looked down for a second. At least he didn't have to wonder where the hell he had been when everything went down. Looks like Azazel had planned everything out to a T. Finding Cas in Dean's place had thrown the mother of all wrenches into his plan.

"He's in the OR, John just left a few minutes ago to hear how he's doing. I was there, Azazel got to me before he could get to Dean. I-I wasn't fast enough though. I didn't see it. You have to believe me Benny, I didn't see the knife until it was a second too late." Benny's hands were heavy on his shoulders.

"Chief, listen to me, you were there, that's all that matters. He might not have made it here if that boy had got to him first." He nodded. Looking up at the wound on his head, he winced.

"Benny, we're all right. I know Azazel is here somewhere too, a few other officers drove us up here, they have probably found him. You should probably get that fixed up."

He smiled, staring at his face in disbelief.

"You should take your own advice Chief. You look in a mirror lately?" He blinked. He hadn't really thought about himself. He knew he would be sore tomorrow, but today? Yeah, he wasn't going to give two shits until he found out about Dean's condition. Noticing the expression on his face, Benny shook his head.

"Yeah, I shoulda known better. I'll get it looked over, wash your face or somethin." He said with a smile. He turned around sheepishly to the nurses standing in the open double doors. One of them looked oddly amused, arms crossed over her chest, head shaking in annoyance. He was some kind of crazy. As he walked back up to the doors, his hand found its way to the back of his neck.

"I apologize if I had frightened ya'll. Was supposed to be playin guard duty to a younger boy, perp got the drop on me first." The nurse nodded in understanding.

"Well Officer," she looked down at his name tag, "Laffite, we're going to stitch that cut of yours, you so much as twitch on that table and I'm putting you down." He smiled.

"Yes ma'am." She rolled her eyes, jerking her head in the direction from where he had stormed out of moments earlier. "You can call me Andrea. None of that 'ma'am,' business." His laugh filled the hall, resonating through the slowly closing doors.

"Yes ma'am."

* * *

Another ten minutes and John was walking through the main walkway. Eyes lighter now after having heard news about his son's condition. He found Castiel sitting right where he had left him, his sons leaned up against one another. Cas was the first person to notice him, shifting Sam's weight from his shoulder. All three boys looked up in hope.

"He's going to be okay. I talked to his doctor, said it was a pretty smooth procedure, they had to do some tests to see if his lung had been damaged. He's all right though. A couple of stitches, nothing too bad. We can see him whenever you guys are ready." At that, both boys popped up out of their seats, impressing Castiel instantly. Just moments ago they had been on the brink of sleep. "We're ready."


	32. Mom's Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean wakes up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, I'm slacking and totally leaving you guys hanging. Trust me. I want them to live a happy life as much as you guys do! I'm working on it, don't worry.

He felt strangely numb. Something he hadn't felt for a very long time. Something he had hoped he would never feel again.

But thankfully, this numb wasn't followed by emotional pain so destructive it broke his voice box. It was followed by pain, yes, that one was unavoidable. But the most important thing that followed, was the warmth.

He opened his eyes, his eyelashes trying to tickle his cheeks as he blinked in rapid succession. Bright white light, so clean and brilliant that he couldn't help cringing back at it. God, who had the bright idea of leaving the light on? What time was it?

He heard a rustling to his left, signalling the consciousness of another poor unfortunate bastard. Instead of groaning in distaste of the lights, he heard only one thing. A silent whisper, one he barely would have heard, had he have not been listening. Seeing as he had willing shut his eyes against the lights, his next best option was depending on his ears.

"Dean," a voice breathed. It sounded deep and gravelly. A voice he would be able to pick out in a line up. A voice that he willingly faced the light for. Just so he could see those beautiful blue eyes. A smile fought its way across his lips. Come what may, Cas would always be waiting on the other side for him. 

And as he peeled back his sealed lids, he knew his suspicions had been correct.

Heavenly blue so bright and crystal-like that it should have been a sin just looking at. But damn him to hell anyways. He looked, falling deep and deeper into him, unable to hold back that sigh of relief. A relief that had been weighing his shoulders down for years. He knew, somehow, just by finding Cas there, waiting for him to wake, that he would never be alone again.

Yes he had the boys, he was slowing getting his father, and he had his friends. But Cas?

There was no other piece of his heart like Cas. No one would ever be able to take his place.

Through some type of magic will power of his own, he was able to pull his gaze. He realized, a moment later, that Cas had taken the brunt of most of their fight. As his eyes scanned over his body, he frowned. His eyes were adorned with dark circles, both from lack of sleep, and bruising. His brow had retained some type of cut, being held together now by a small strip of band aid. His nose looked nearly as bad as his had, their first hospital visit together.

The hands resting on his hospital bed looked to be in no better shape. Thankfully, they had not fallen to any sprains or breaks in muscle or bone. His knuckles, the ones not bandaged in thick gauze, were stained with a yellow-green like bruising he knew hurt.

He carefully placed his hand on top of one of Cas'. His eyes, and his patience, no longer able to stay this long away from Cas' as he looked up.

"Cas?" He leaned in, face open and ready to take whatever words he had to say.

"You look like shit." The brightest smile broke out across his face. Nearly as blinding as the light had been just moments ago. With a shake of his head, he couldn't keep the happiness at bay. There was no fighting it. Dean was all right. Azazel had been detained. Even John seemed to be fairing better.

"We must stop meeting like this." He said with a laugh. It was silent for a moment afterwards. He felt bad, obviously. Cas never would have been hurt, either times, if Dean had stood up for himself like he had last night. Of course, it could have ended without either of the two boys detained or he and Cas injured. 

"Cas, I didn't start this one, so I'm not taking the blame." He said, tone light and mindful of the impeding conversation. Cas' hand tightened around Dean's, uncaring of the cuts and bruises.

"Darling, no one is to blame besides Alistair and Azazel." He nodded. Whether or not he believed it was for another day. Just listening to Cas say it wasn't his fault was enough.

Aside from the guilt glaring down at him, he felt another smile creep onto his cheeks. Perhaps he had been too pain-riddled, or he had been imagining it. But he had seen Cas weilding Anna's toy bat like it was a knight's sword. He wanted to laugh, but something in his gut, literally just his intestines, told him he shouldn't. 

"What is it?" He asked, leaning in and brushing his free hand along the edges of Dean's smile. Dean shook his head. It was a memory he would probably like to file away for a time when he could laugh pain free, but he knew Cas would never drop it.

"Were you, uh, holding Anna's plastic toy bat last night?"

Cas blinked. A warmth he couldn't contain spread across his cheeks. He had really hoped Dean hadn't seen anything. Especially of him being so...violent. He didn't think it would help Dean's psyche towards his father. 

"Cas, I'm not, like, mad or anything. I thought I was hallucinating or something. But you were, weren't you?"

It was no surprise to him that the boys never lied to him. He just had a way of being so understanding, but also encouraging that he almost forgot what he had been so embarrassed about seconds ago. But as his eyes flit over to a sleeping John Winchester, head tilted back, and a frown now only present in his sleep. He remembered. He had reacted on animal instinct, an instinct so basic, there was no hope in ever training it.

Dean's eyes seemed to follow his, and as he saw his father, wearing such a familiar look, he couldn't fight back a shudder. If that was what Cas was worried about becoming, he should know better. He and John were nothing alike. Castiel had the kindest, most open heart, that he would never be capable of the things John had.

"Cas?" He looked down, unable to meet the bright honesty and just pure good in Dean's eyes.

"Y'know, I don't think you should be worried or scared of how you reacted last night." He waited, wondering if that would bring the pain from his mind. When he received no reaction, he continued.

"I was hurt, and I think, if something like that had ever happened to you...I know, well, I know I'm not that strong-" At that Cas' eyes shot up. He looked ready to protest, but he held up a hand to silence him.

"I know I'm not that strong, muscularly speaking, but I know I would probably have done the same thing."

"Really? You would have proudly weld a wiffle ball bat and miraculously maintained a straight face?" Cas asked, leaning back in his chair, a brow cocked in question.

"Straighter than yours anyway." His jaw dropped, amusement at the statement fighting against the fake shock spread across his face. Before he could jump into an argument, calling Dean out on his own sexuality. A voice stole both of their attention.

"Mom?"

Adam stood at the foot of his bed, a heavy hand rubbing away the sleep that he had just barely arisen from. Upon seeing Dean awake, no longer looking sickly in bed, a smile tickled his ears. He hurried forward, clambering on the bed, mindful of his sides like John had said. With Cas' help, he was able to get his arms safely around him. He tucked his nose into the curve of Dean's collar bone. Breathing in, he felt himself almost melt against him.

Home.

"Addie, mommy's fine, you don't have to squeeze so hard buddy." He said, tone light. He didn't really care that much, if he had it his way, he would have been buried beneath Sam and Adam's weight. Being crushed to death by love didn't sound so bad.

"If you were fine, Cas wouldn't have fainted the first time we saw you." Sam's voice spoke up behind them. He didn't move, but he knew when his other baby brother was near. He always knew. Just like he knew Cas was sputtering out a reply.

"I-I was exhausted, an-and I had just suffered some injuries. I did not faint."

"You fainted." John's rumble voiced out on the other side of the bed. Sam came into view, hands wrung together, a habit Dean hadn't wanted him to pick up on, but one he knew was always a sign of worry. He freed one of his arms, distangling it from around Adam's back, and tugged out at Sam's shirt. Almost smashing onto the pile of would-be smothering love, Sam caught himself on his hands before he put anymore weight on him.

But still, he found a way to squeeze onto the bed with Adam and Dean, snuggling against his brother's side. It never ceased to bring him back to his childhood. Something about the way he smelled, or the way he held onto his back, hand so strong he felt like Dean would never leave. During the time where it was just the two of them, Dean did that so often, Sam hadn't noticed how much he missed it. That warmth ever-promising around his core. Like a hug for his soul, only the likes that his mother could give.

He sniffled, unable to fight the tears, he had been so worried. He was so tried of seeing him hurt. He couldn't do it anymore. He knew, as soon as he was older, he was going to be big and strong, strong enough to protect him. Nothing like this was ever going to happen again. Dean shushed him, gently nuzzling his cheek onto the top of his head. He knew he probably smelled like last night's game, he hadn't had the time to change, nor the desire to leave his side.

He wanted to be there right when he woke up. It turns out, he wasn't the only one. Adam had nearly bit one of the nurses when she had said visiting time was over. Thankfully Benny had been there. He probably would have let him bite her, especially if she had taken them away from him.

They hadn't noticed John and Cas stepping out, too occupied in the warmth of one another. This little pile was stronger than anything else in the world. They were all they had, forget John, love, and anything else. When it came right down to it. Dean would never give up his boys. Ever.

Thankfully, it seemed that Cas understood that.

Even more thankful.

John understood that. 

"Darling, neither of us are to blame.


	33. The Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Cas' family come together, for an all out testament of unity. A family barbeque.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello dearies, we're coming to a close soon. I'm grateful that you guys stuck around, hanging on to my story, even if at times it made you cry, wait in anticipation, or hate me. I'd apologize, but hey, some stories just got to have that rough edge, the smooth outcome is definitely worth it.

Freedom was nice. No one hovering over you while you pissed, waking you every two hours, and especially no one invading his and Cas' personal time.

(It wasn't that type of personal time, calm down.)

It was something refreshing. (Like a blow job.) It was enjoying each other's company (like the horizontal tango). It was....

Trying all of Dean's resolve.

He hadn't realized how good he would feel, both of his tormentors now detained and he was finally, actually, and totally free. So he had time to think about other things. Like his boys. Or the fact that it didn't feel like there was a bolder on his throat any time he spoke. Or how strangely nice it was seeing Cas and his dad get along.

And Cas. He had plenty of time and no restraint in his thoughts geared toward him. The second night at the hospital, thankfully everyone had gone to their respective homes, he had dreamt about him. And it wasn't PG. It was full on raunchy sex, and for the first time in months. That didn't send him rocking in the corner.

He wasn't cured. By any means. Yes, he still jumped when someone touched him unannounced. He still kept an eye on John while he interacted with the boys. But now, it was less stress related. More...personal. If he jumped it was from excitement, someone important was now with him. If John interacted with the boys, it was in a fatherly manner that didn't make Dean jump in front of them out of protection. And Cas, he never, in the first place, saw him as his savior. That he owed him. But looking at him now, he could enjoy their connection without fear of it being one-sided.

And yes. He realized he was horny as hell.

It really was Cas' fault. He looked so rugged with his bandages and his cuts and bruises. He looked tough. He looked edible. All that aside, he was still so attentive to his needs. Whether personal or emotional. That first morning, holding both of his boys, was so emotional for him. He was finally free. He felt strong enough to be called their mother again. Like he had went through hell and came out on top, because really that was what being a mother was all about.

No matter the personal issue, you make do with whatever hand you are dealt, and you take care of your kids.

Cas, when he and John had reentered the room, immediately went to Dean's side. Hand already caressing the side of his face in understanding. Because he knew how important it was holding those two. Fuck the pain in his side. When either boy grew too heavy, Cas took on their weight. Just for him. And Gods did that make him all the more attractive.

This was someone he could have an entire conversation with, without even having to utter a semblance of a sentence. Together their eyes held the weight and understanding of the world. Cas with his calm skies, and dark seas. Dean with his cracked earth and sturdy trees. They completed one another.

And that made him want to never stop looking at him. 

But now, there were no interrupting staff, no pestering little brothers, and especially no imposing fathers. It was just the two of them.

Kind of.

* * *

The air was crisp, the warmth of the upcoming summer weighing down the sun and clouds. He sat in a lawn chair, unfolded in a lazy manner that both Cas and his father insisted on. He wasn't supposed to be lifting anything of substantial weight, making any brisk moves, basically anything considered fun.

"C'mon I can at least help Naomi in the kitchen." He pleaded. He hated being waited on. It was so...unnatural.

Naomi had insisted on putting together a celebration, specifically steered toward a speedy recovery for Dean. But they all knew it was about both of the charges following through, now both of those boys would be locked away, never to hurt him again.

Cas paused, seeming to think it over in his head, but as he and John deliberated. (A wordless conversation.) Dean already knew the outcome.

"I'm sorry darling, you heard-

"The doc, yeah I got it. Fine. But I will not have fun at this party if all I get to do is sit here." Cas seemed to brighten with that. He held up a placating finger and scurried off back inside. He frowned, folding his arms over one another, and proudly kept his eyes away from his father.

He knew if he looked at him, he would cave. Lately John had been so...concerned? He seemed to have puppy eyes that almost rivaled Sammy's.

Almost.

But one look with those sad eyes, Dean would just willingly let John take care of him.

But he didn't want that now. If this was supposed to be his party, he wanted to do something. At that, Cas came outside, followed quickly by a cheery Anna and a calm looking Gabe. He didn't know whether or not to trust that combination. Anna he could trust. But Gabe? Yeah, he didn't like this one bit.

Cas stopped, carefully seating himself on the edge of Dean's lawn chair, and held out his hands. In one hand he held a small pearing knife, and in the other sat a bright peach. He looked down at the two for a few moments. When nothing seemed to happen, he looked up at Cas.

"A peach? You want me to cut one peach?" Eyebrow cocked. Cas' smile was smile, fond, not in any way laughing at Dean or his antics. He shook his head, gently urging Dean to open his hands out for the peach. He did so willingly, waiting for it to explode, per Gabe's stature. Maybe something bad wasn't going on, but something was definitely going on.

As the peach rolled into his waiting hands, Cas closed his free hand around his. His eyes were shut, like he was taking in everything around him before he even considered opening his mouth again. When he was ready, he looked up, but not at him. Past him. Right at the tree in their backyard. Dean followed his gaze, shoulders dropping with understanding.

"The first fruit from the tree, its a very important task, to whomever cuts it. We decided this year, you should do it." He looked up at Cas, emotion bubbling up. Intent on making sure this was what everyone wanted, he looked over at Gabe and Anna's faces. Both of them looked happy. Like they trusted him enough to let him do something so important in their family. He cradled the peach that much gentler, turning back to Cas, nodding in agreement.

Naomi had been watching from the kitchen window, smiling at all of her children. She had always wanted to raise good people. Watching them now, she just knew that they were meant for greatness.

Looking over at Dean, she felt the same pride as she did in her own children. He had went through so much, throwing this party was nothing compared to what he had done. She had invited everyone over to the house, not limited to basically the entire neighborhood. 

Dean was sitting now, carefully peeling the peach with the knife, so concentrated he barely noticed Benny and Andrea walking through the backdoor. But soon as Benny's laugh broke through he looked up. He would never forget that laugh. It was big and warm, just like the man himself. When he spotted Dean, he waved, turning to say something to Andrea, before walking over to his chair. He hadn't noticed the brace at the hospital when Benny had first seen him, but now? In clear daylight, he could see that Benny had definitely gotten hurt during the scrimmage with Azazel.

He cringed at it, feeling both guilty and worried. Benny seemed to notice his gaze and as soon as he was within well respectable speaking limits, he scoffed.

"This thing? It's nothin', barely a scratch, ain't nothin' I regret happenin neither chief. Andrea says I was acting mighty proud in the hospital, I wouldna had no cast put on me if I could help it. Them doctors seemed to doubt a good ol' boy like me, bein' able to heal from somethin' like this as fast as I said I could. But just you wait, another two weeks, I'll be cuffin perps without a stretch." Dean offered him a nod. He knew it was supposed to make him feel better, and it did. A small fraction better than he had before.

"Benny, I don't think anything can take you down besides yourself. Heard you were the one to do that anyway." He laughed, filling Dean's being with comfort. Now he was feeling a lot better.

"You know 'bout them coyotes, I'd have gnawed my whole hand off jist to make sure you were all right brother." By that time Andrea had taken it upon herself to join the conversation, and for that, Dean was grateful. It was bordering on serious chick-flick territory.

"If you would have done that, I doubt I'd have taken you up on that offer of yours. Now, what had you said?" She paused, squaring her shoulders in a manner similar to Benny's strong stance.

"Mon cher, I'd take another shot in the butt just to take you out." Dean's eyes widened. A smile was threatening his cheeks. He could see Benny rolling his eyes.

"I said nothin' like that, don't listen to the woman, she ain't remembering clearly." The two continued chatting until Cas returned to his side, a stranger tagging alongside.

A woman, Cas had introduced as Jody, skipped the handshake and pulled him into the warmest hug he had ever received. She had apparently been one of the first responding officers at the scene with Azazel. She had an awful lot to say about Cas' ferocity. That did nothing in helping his new thoughts about Cas.

Just imagining him portraying some type of wild man, that was enough to have him clearing his throat. God when did it get so hot... in the outdoors?

By that point, the party was in full swing. Everyone from everyone talking to one another, occasionally passing Cas and Dean, stopping to say a few words of greetings or in some closer case, congratulating him on the verdicts. It was nice, being surrounded by so many close people he had the honor of calling friends.

When Ellen and Jo came, he was practically vibrating in his seat. He wanted to jump up and hug them so badly, but almost sensing that desire, Cas set a gentle hand on his thigh, a reminder that they would eventually make their way over. Ellen had cast the longest look at John, regardless of her own small stature, she looked at John like he was a pipsqueak. And John knew why too. He had the decency to look ashamed.

The day fell to night, party still surviving the few goodbyes and departures. They sat now, surrounding a small fire pit. Sam somewhere goofing around with Gabe, Adam laying his head in Dean's lap. Dean sitting side by side with Cas, ear pressed to his shoulder, falling more in love with each rise and fall of his chest. John had fallen into some political dispute with Benny and Jody. Naomi had long since taken Anna off to bed.

It was nice, the calm after a heavy rain. Conversations slowly trickling into a distant white noise, he was happy. This was good. This is what family was supposed to be.


	34. The Horizontal Tango but Vertical

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean goes back and fourth with himself on a certain...offer of Castiel's.

He had to be insane. Or delusional. Maybe he had hit his head on the way over?

Seriously. He would consider believing in him getting jumped on the fifteen feet walk between their houses. Anything but what had actually just happened.

"Dean? I-I understand, that may have been a bit forward, and you are under no obligation to fulfill any of my inquiries, or answer until you are ready. I was merely stating a-a suggestion. We, uh, well, we've been together for some time now." He paused, thinking bitterly to himself. Two years wasn't just "some time". They had literally just graduated. Like, literally. Walked down one after another and shook hands with whatever asshole held their diplomas.

Almost six years they had known one another, three of those in a devote and trusting relationship. And now they were considering something more...hedonistic. Well, Castiel was thinking about it. Almost constantly. Really, he should get that checked he was thinking about it so much.

But anytime anything got a little...out of hand...Dean would stammer out some excuse as to why they shouldn't continue further down the rabbit hole. Or anyone's hole. Really. It was blue ball city in the last week alone. And he didn't know why that was the first thing that popped out of his mouth.

"What should we do now?" Dean had asked. Just a simple question. John had taken the boys out, seeing as Castiel had planned some fancy date for the two, and Naomi was at home with the other children. Though, it wasn't really fair, calling them children still. Because they both had grown considerably. Neither measuring up to Sam's insane growth spurt, but still. They were already becoming little adults.

He had just wanted some alone time with his boyfriend. Some nice, quiet, uninterrupted alone time.

And then his dumb mouth had popped out with, "let's have sex."

Fuck. Gabriel had said, numerous amounts of times, that he had the worst filter in the world. Now he knew why. Reasons like this. God, why hadn't he stopped to think about that question, before sprouting out with that stupid shit? Just ten seconds to process his answer. But no. His dumb blue balls were apparently constricting blood flow to his brain.

And Dean was sitting there. Having just finished taking off and hanging his cap and gown. Now utterly silent.

Fucking hell. He broke him.

He hadn't taken a seat yet, still too stunned by his own words. He should really invest in a yoga instructing class. Apparently he was really good at getting his foot that close to his face. Stupid horny teenage hormones making him put his dumb foot in his mouth. He was pacing. Not anxiously. It was rather calming. If you considered the heavy breathing as calming. Maybe he should take that seat.

He stopped, looking over at Dean like he had been constantly since those fatal words fell out of his mouth. Dean didn't look scared, or like he was slipping off into that horrible numbness like he had after the incident. He looked....puzzled. It was such a confused look, that it stopped his tracking back and forth. He took a chance. Slowly, kneeling down in front of Dean, giving him perfect view of his hands before he set them down on his knees. Never higher, never without permission.

"Darling?" He swallowed, nervously lifting his eyes towards Cas'. Just like he knew, in all the times before, Cas didn't speak. Giving him the time and space to work through his words, let him speak, tell him what was really going on.

He cleared his throat. He felt liquid brimming in his eyes. A tear managed to escape, despite his best efforts. If Cas noticed, he didn't say anything, didn't even make a move to wipe that tear away. He didn't want anything coming between Dean and him expressing his emotions. Maybe they were happy tears?

"You, uh, you'd want to-to do that?" He trailed off, eyes dropping their connection. He didn't have the space to grab his hands, if he did it would have been a dead giveaway as to how he was really feeling. Small, weak, confused. 

"Um, w-with me?" He finished, pointedly not returning Cas' imploring stare. It was Cas' turn to look confused.

He knew it was risky, touching Dean without him seeing his exact movements, but he needed to look him in the eye, find out what was really going on in that head of his. His hand touched the side of his face, gentle, cool and Dean remained still. So unlike his usual response, turning into the connection, trying to get as close to him as possible. That made him more nervous.

"Darling, what do you mean, 'with you,' why would I want to do that with anyone else? It's you who I love. And, I should have explained first, if you never wanted to have sex, ever, I would be all right with that. I mean," He paused, eyes looking away in self disapproval.

"My testicles would detest that statement, but I don't care. Whatever you wish, I'll do." He looked up, no longer still and confused.

"You really want to do this though, with me, seriously?" He asked. He was growing frustrated. Why didn't he understand what he was saying?

"Dean, why do you keep asking that? Of course I would want to do this with you, why shouldn't I?"

"BECAUSE!" He voiced, chest heaving, unable to contain his outburst. 

"I'm...I'm dirty." He said, so suddenly quiet, his outburst seemed like it had belonged to an entirely different person. He shrank in on himself, something he hated watching. Because he wasn't small or taking up too much space by voicing his thoughts or feelings. He was important, he had a right to fully express himself.

He moved forward, movements slow and so familiar that Dean didn't fight the arms encircling him. He slumped into Cas' hold, letting him coddle him, because that's really what he wanted. After all these years, he finally figured it out.

He wanted someone to take care of him.

And for some strange reason, Castiel wanted to do that.

He spoke closely to his ear, sending chills of tickling words down his spine.

"Darling, you are not, and never have been dirty. Your soul is the purest thing I've ever seen. It would be nearly impossible for you to be in any way tarnished." He pulled back, taking his face into his hands, cradling him like he was the most fragile thing in the world.

"I would think, of the two of us, it would be me that was the tarnished one." Dean's eyes snapped up. He looked suddenly hell bent on disagreeing with him, but he didn't let him say anything, not yet.

"You've seen numerous times the kinds of savagery I can shift into. I-I really am some type of beast. It's just, when it comes to you, beloved, I just...I lose all rational thought. Nothing stands in the way of me protecting you. Even if, at times it has to be from yourself." He looked down, shoulders heavy with the weight of their conversation. They had had this conversation many times before. Granted, the others had been more sheltered. Dean hadn't been ready to fully explain why he never sought more of a connection with him than necessary.

Even if he wasn't physically doing it, he was hiding in the corner, still trying to protect himself.

"I don't want to have sex with you." He said, unknowingly causing Dean to shrink further in on himself.

"I want to love you in the most basic way possible. I-if I am some type of beast, then I should like to listen to my baser instincts. If it's ravaging you in the best possible ways I can think of, I would like to. That is...with your permission of course. And if not, then I'll live. Knowing I can care for you alone is fulfilling."

They were silent for a beat.

He feared the worst, suddenly preparing for the heavy blow of Dean's rejection entirely. Wanting no part in their relationship now that he had ruined it so stupidly. Dean's hands shook as he lifted them, holding onto Cas' arms. He nearly jumped at the touch. He looked down, finding Dean's eyes filled with tears. But this time, they didn't look like they were fueled by confused emotions, they looked happy.

"Okay," he said.


	35. The Sack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trying to bone is turning out to be more difficult than they had originally planned, but thank God its funny to watch (or read).

It was messy the first time.

And by first time, he means first attempt.

"Okay," he agreed, breath leaving him like a light feather. He hadn't expected that feather to weigh him down so much. He had just agreed. This was it. They were going to have sex.

And Cas kissed him, lips soft and warm. So fucking warm. Holding the back of Dean's neck with one hand, other hand slowly caressing his cheek. He had never felt so cherished, so cared for, and they hadn't even taken any of their clothes off. He allowed the space between his legs to open, letting Cas take residency, feeling an entirely different type of heat. Low in his gut, a heavy heady feeling took hold of him, pinning him in place and he didn't mind it for one second.

Cas was still kneeling in front of the bed, elbows nearly connecting with the tops of his legs every time they shifted. It was getting hotter, he could feel his shirts sticking to him like glue. Cas, ever the gentleman, didn't make a move for his clothes, merely letting them sink into that desperate kiss they always seemed to find. He loved kissing him, well aware that he would never want to kiss anyone else's lips besides Dean Winchester's.

He was nervous, obviously. Two virgins trying to consummate their relationship, not that that was what they needed to know they were it for each other. 

Sex was, hopefully, going to be a bonus.

So he tried to make everything as painless as possible, though he has to admit, every time they pull away from each other's lips, it feels like ripping a limb from his body. He barely understands what is making him so...hungry.

He starts with his own shirt, pulling far enough away that Dean won't be able to pull him in again. He watches, eyes suddenly stalking him like that of predator and prey. He licked his lips, slowly Cas' fingers trailed down the buttons of his shirt, slowly revealing more and more skin. He hadn't ever thought someone could have a sexy clavicle. But watching that stupid piece of fabric drop from Cas' shoulders, he hadn't expected the desire to get his mouth on him.

It wasn't exactly forbidden. He was just surprised, because, biting, really? That's his first thought of seeing Cas without a shirt? His hair seemed messy, well, messier than usual, mainly because he had run his fingers through it more times than he could count. It was just ridiculously soft. That, plus the heat sliding further down his body, he was having a hard enough time thinking straight.

"Dean?" He blinked, pulling himself away from the unmarred skin of his boyfriend's chest. Unable to use intelligible words, he responded with a solid, 'huh'? If the smile on Cas' face was anything to go by, he didn't think Dean not being able to focus was a bad thing. If anything it was very flattering, Dean nearly salivating over how delectable he looked. The thing was, why he was really smiling, is because Dean had been talking. Saying things he probably thought were locked behind the barrier of his mind.

Things that had no right doing THAT to Cas' body. He was surprised he hadn't shot off prematurely because of it either. The deep drawl of his voice, the way he caressed his own lips with the sharp nip of his teeth, like he was trying to stop the words from falling out in the first place.

Saying he wanted to get his teeth anywhere that Cas would allow, the urge to mark him suddenly erasing any semblance of a filter. Cas had already proven, to many people, countless times, that Dean belonged to him. So barbarically that two boys would carry the meaning of that on their skin for the rest of their lives. He merely wanted to reciprocate. As rough as Castiel had shown him he was, or has the capability of becoming, he was so patient, waiting for Dean as he unbuttoned his shirt.

Yes, his hands were shaking, fingertips hardly getting a well enough grasp to pop those suckers off. He was half tempted to just let Cas rip his shirt open and have his way with him. Thinking about that only seemed to make him lose his focus even more. God, that shouldn't be that hot, imaging Cas act like...like a wild beast. He shook his head, trying to get those thoughts out, he was doing something. Something important for both of them.

They were going to bare their bodies to one another, seeing as they had already bared their souls, the human thing to do would be that. Cas was watching him, eyes so blown with arousal he could hardly see those blue skies anymore, nothing but dark and sensual arousal on his mind now. He almost laughed. He now understood what Cas had meant when he said listening to his basic instincts. Hopefully he would follow through with the rest of that promise.

He never expected the desire of being ravished. He hadn't expected a lot of things. Especially not the crazy amount of strength Cas possessed when he lifted Dean up, settling him further onto the bed. He was careful, precise as he climbed on top of him, and he was happy to report no feelings of terror. He didn't think about the times when others had held him down in a similar way, mainly because it wasn't really that similar at all. Neither of those times had been with his consent.

He didn't think consent could be so fucking hot.

Cas' lips closed around a sensitive patch of skin on his throat. He turned his head, trying to give him the most room to have his way. Another sigh left his mouth. His hands rested above his head, taking up space on his pillow, he felt so open and exposed. But he never left him feeling vulnerable, as his hands rested openly, he had slid his to join, fitting the two together like puzzle pieces. His chest bare, no shirt to protect old scars from John's hands or that errant star shaped one that nearly sent Cas on a killing spree. He just settled his own chest on top of his, protecting him like he always managed to do.

He felt his legs fall open for Cas, no shaking fear taking hold of him as he felt a hand tickling near the waistband. This was happening. This was really happening. And God it felt so good.

And then, of course, that's when the boys had to interrupt.

He was thankful, for every thing Cas had ever done for him. Really. But none of that compared to the fact that he had locked the door.

They both sat up, suddenly out of breath even though they hadn't really done much. Light groping and some pretty hardcore making out. But they sat now, trying to regain some form of composure as Adam kept trying to knob.

Of course, he had never really had time to himself and the boys constantly let themselves into his room. They slept their often enough, though now as they were growing older, it was less so a frequent occurrence. (He's not going to admit he misses it, shut up.) Still, it should have at least come across his mind to lock his own door. 

"Mom? Sam and Gabe were going to the park, can I go with them?" Adam asked sweetly. Surprisingly Cas didn't seem off put by the turn of events. If anything, it looked like he found it all to be pretty amusing. Of course it was the boys that interrupted. They had the most perfect timing in the world. Dean cleared his throat, trying to calm down the burning arousal in his veins.

"Yeah buddy, go on ahead, Cas and I will probably join you in a few minutes." A smile was playing on his lips, they looked bruised, probably from just how hard they had been kissing, but he couldn't think about that now. The mood had kinda been killed by the appearance of his kid brother.

"Raincheck?" He asked, surprising himself that he even wanted this to happen again. But he'd be lying if he said he didn't. Cas pulled him into a chaste kiss, licking the outline of his lips in a such a predatory manner, he already knew the answer to his question.

* * *

The raincheck hadn't been cashed yet.

And he was going insane.

It had been a week of constant interruptions. Either the boys, preparing for college, or John. Really, there was no free time that he could just be himself, and pounce the fuck out of Cas. They had finally reached their window of hope, Naomi had taken Anna out for the day, Gabe and Sammy were at this week long retreat thing with John.

And Adam found himself a little girlfriend. Yes, a nine year old with fresh moves that nearly made all the girls on the playground swoon. He had already told Dean he loved her, wanted to spend every waking moment with her, who was he to come between young love?

Of course, he scoped the place out first, talked mom-to-mom with the chick's parents, and then as soon as everything checked out...he nearly tripped many times on the run home. Of course, he hadn't told Cas any of his plans for the day. If he did, he knew that someone something was going to stop them from taking that last step off the ledge. God he just wanted to jump it now, so ready to land.

He wove around their separating fence, jumping over Naomi's flower garden she and Cas HAD to plant days ago, and skipped three steps. All-in-all, he made it in record time, and should only suffer minimal bruising.

Letting himself into the Novak home, he scurried up the stairs after having found a vacant lower level. The door to Cas' room was shut, he could be busy doing some lame pre-college work, or he could be reading. Literally anything could be happening behind that door. He knew, all he had to do was give it a little turn of the knob, and then everything would change. He took in a deep breath. Energy was thrumming beneath his fingertips as he grasped ahold, giving the knob a little pressure before the door gave way.

He nudged it all the way open with a gentle kick. Another breath and he was fully immersing himself in Castiel's room. The sun was peaking in through the blinds, leaving parallel lines all along the edge of his bed. It was neatly made up, so Cas of him. He looked around, noticing along with the made up bed, the room was empty.

Perhaps he had been in the bathroom? He travelled back down the hall, subtly checking each room as he passed by. Impossible. He swore Cas had been here when he had left with Adam just ten minutes ago. If that little shit-

He stopped, halfway past the kitchen, on another loop around the living room when he saw the backdoor was open. The screen door was shut, open just enough that he could see him standing there, right in front of his father's tree.

Talk about a boner killer.

He sighed, feeling immensely ashamed of himself, and left through the door after him. He had probably been feeling down about something, or maybe he was worried about college, sure it was a few hours away, but they both would be coming back regularly, Dean mainly because he had literally never left the boys sides for longer than one night. Cas though, his mother really did count on him, not so much raising his siblings like Dean's father, but because Cas was her first baby, all grown up and getting ready to leave the nest.

He could totally fucking sympathize with that. He knows he's going to cry when Sam leaves for college, and especially when Adam graduates. Holy shit, he's getting all emotional just thinking about it. He hadn't realized he was still halfway in the house and halfway out, door perched open with his motherly driven sadness. He should really pay better attention than that.

"-it's just..." Cas' voice spoke up, drawing his attention away from his inner mom-o-logue. He froze, unsure on if he was encroaching on a really private moment with his dad or not. He just stood there, waiting for Cas to gather the strength to finish his statement.

"I-I really do love him dad," he could practically hear the smile on his face. "Dean's, well, he's something else, but just how willing he is to trust me, its...its honestly frightening."

He released the door, trying as stealthily as he could to prevent it from hissing out his arrival. Cas, none the wiser, continued on with his little talk.

"I'd like to ask him to accompany me in procuring an apartment together, I haven't exactly worked up the courage yet. It was a difficult process just getting him to go to the school to begin. And I understand, he's got the boys to worry about, little mother hen, but he, well...I can't speak for him, but he deserves a life of his own."

His heart had a boner. He fucking loved Cas so much it was dizzying.

Just as he ended up a safe enough distance nearby, he figured he had finished his talk, hoping he wouldn't keep praising him for things he thought he was being selfish for. Maybe he could be, selfish...He still wanted the boys though. It's not that he liked how hard it had been raising the two, but he liked them calling him mom. It made him feel important. Like he was a fixture in both of their lives, something rooted that could never be removed or destroyed.

"All I can say is, I love him, and I don't believe I'll ever be able to make it without him." At that, he felt a wave of emotion trap itself in his throat. He couldn't hold it it any longer, he wanted to scream from the rooftops that he loved him too. So much he thought he was going mad with it. Thankfully, he managed to stay reserved, catching Cas' attention by clearing his throat.

"I think he loves you too," tears were holding themselves back, to the best of his ability. Cas had spun around so fast, he feared his head would connect with one of his father's branches.

Yeah, they definitely needed to get back inside.


	36. Thank Goodness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heavy, sexy sex times are in the cards....maybe?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, I fell off the face of the fuckin earth again. My bad. Last time. I swear...

He had been taken aback, obviously. Dean had eaves dropped on a very important moment with his father. But the look he had sent him made all thoughts of disapproval disappear. It was dark and lustful, the manner in which he held him. So suddenly filled with filthy thoughts, he had to take a step forward. (So as not to taint his father's tree.)

Dean looked up, frozen beneath his gaze, wondering which of them would make the first move. It was a stalemate. Cas, not wanting to push Dean too far, Dean unsure on how to proceed. But like many times before, instead of their words doing the talking, they both seemed to understand that their bodies would be better at this conversation.

So Cas took another step forward. And this time, Dean led him on with a step back toward the house. A devilish smile seemed to creep onto his cheeks. Normally it was he that was the taunted. It was pleasing watching Cas coming undone beneath his temptation. He turned, sending a look back at him over his shoulder, eyelids low, leaving little to imagination. Yes, it was obvious. Dean wanted this as much as he did.

That was all he needed.

Like a pinball machine, he shot forward, determined to collide into whatever surface was closest. (Preferably with Dean in his arms.) Stumbling over the threshold, he managed to lead Dean against the kitchen counter, his hands resting faithfully by his sides, elbows pointed back, gaining more force so he could lift himself up. He was crowding him within seconds, filling the slot between his spread legs, hands resting on his hips, pulling him right to the edge. Just so their denim covered pelvises could connect.

Dean's head lifted skyward, he felt so good, so hard against him. A heat so tempting and desirable it made him dizzy. He lifted a hand, tangling it into Cas' locks, tugging him forward so their lips could meet in a feverish kiss. The noise he released at Dean's hand clutching his already mangled mess was one the had Dean leaking in his shorts. So raw and unfiltered. This was it, no one to interfere now, just the jump before the fall.

Hands grabbed his lower back and ass, lifting him with an unforeseeable strength he didn't know he possessed. Carrying him with little difficulty, adrenaline and arousal enough in helping him up the stairs. Dean's teeth had worked their way, marking Castiel's neck, possessive and absolutely welcome. It made it that more difficult ascending the stairs, but so worth it when he slammed Dean up against the nearest wall.

His teeth dug down, definitely leaving his mark, it was enough to have him growling out his approval. It should have been alarming how quickly they fell to their baser instincts, like wild animals mating for the first time. Meekness and fear held no hold over him as he found himself poised above Cas. He had dropped the two indignantly down onto his bed, Dean a comforting and tempting weight above his hardness.

He had the sense of mind, even through the foggy controls of his downstairs brain, to make sure Dean felt as safe as possible.

"T-Top or-or bottom," he asked, gritting through the effort of forming words. Dean didn't seem to mind, too busy tugging at Cas' clothes, trying to remove any and all barriers between them. He was surprised, but pleasantly so when he replied, "Bottom". That was all he needed to hear before he started tearing their clothes the rest of the way off.

They rolled around on the bed, as much as the space would allow, taking turns fighting for dominance in a playful manner. Cas allowing Dean to win after the third shove sending him back onto the mattress. His bare thighs encaged his hips, this was the first time he had seen Dean so open...so...bare. It was beautiful. He licked his lips absently, watching as Dean stretched up, his chest on full display.

If his hands weren't full of his perfect hips, he would have been mapping out the planes of his torso. He always managed to make himself look so small, but looking at the muscles that pulled in his chest as he breathed out his pleasure, he was anything but small. It had taken him by surprise, seeing the photos of them in their graduation photos, standing side-by-side, he had never noticed they were the same height. Or that Dean didn't always have to look up at him...he just chose to.

He felt a hand press down onto his chest, Dean's face suddenly clear, no longer full of drunken arousal. He blinked, sobering almost instantly, wondering if something had set him off. He sat upright, hands moving from his waist, up to his shoulders.

"Is everything all right, are you okay?" He asked.

Instead of answering, Dean just stared. A look of complete wonderment and surprise found his face. How Cas could look so lost in his thoughts one second and concerned about him the next would never cease to amaze him. He lifted a hand and let it trace the soft edges of his jaw, smiling at him.

"Stay with me," he said, and suddenly it just clicked in his head. Dean didn't want him to be trapped in his thoughts like he so often found himself. Whether or not they were good thoughts changed nothing. This was now, this was being present in the moment. This was recognizing that Dean was rolling his hips again.

He groaned, dropping his head down onto Dean's shoulder. They hadn't even gotten to the penetrating part and he was already a mess. He just felt so good, his cock rubbing right against his, evidence of their excitement already smearing together. Dean was going to be the end of him, he just knew it.

"Getting a little excited there sweetheart?" He asked, amusement heavy in his tone. He lifted his head, just so he could set him straight with one of his smite-filled stares. Dean paused, bottom lip trapped between his teeth as he fought another smile.

Well that just wouldn't do.

He took hold of Dean's weight, rolling them over once again, a cute yelp leaving his lips in surprise. His arms waved in the air, trying to catch himself before he completely fell into Cas' hands. But it was too late. His weight rested atop him for a moment, another wolf-like grin making it's appearance across his lips. He looked like he was ready to devour him whole. And he was completely okay with that. Submitting to him willingly, he bared his throat, letting out a high pitched moan he didn't think he was capable of making.

The sight before him was enough to draw another deep groan from deep inside his core. He didn't fight the urge to lean down and nip at his open skin. Licking at his collar bone, trailing down his chest, only to stop at what he was pleasantly surprised to note, Dean's apparently sensitive nipples. His hands came up, clutching onto the back of his head, trying to keep him in place. His legs opened that much wider, trying to pull him as close as he could manage.

It was enough to send his thoughts spiraling. All the things he wanted to do to him. They were endless. He was licking and nipping at his hipbones when he heard that first word leave his lips. He was so pleased that one word was his name.

"Cas-" He sighed, hands no longer trailing after Cas' head, but raised above his own. Laid out like a decadent feast, he licked his lips again. His eyes were closed so tightly, mouth open on a silent moan. He looked beautiful like this. He wanted to taste every part of him, claim all that he could reach. But the main piece of meat he wanted was resting right beneath his hands. He pat one of Dean's thighs, signalling he raise it, just to give him enough room.

Passing right by Dean's engorged organ, he parted his cheeks, just enough to see that little furl of temptation. Dean's breathing was heavy, panting out his anticipation. No one had ever touched him there like that. He didn't expect how much he would want that. The first lick was enough to have him crying out.

That was all the motivation he needed before diving right in to the first course. He was licking open his most private place, willing Dean to allow him admittance. His thighs now trapping his head in place, hands back to where they belong right on Cas' head, fighting between pulling him up for another kiss and forcing him closer to him. The first finger went in smoothly, barely noticed as Cas moved his tongue up to his crotch. Leaving his possessive bite marks all around his thighs and pelvis.

The second finger he noticed, mainly because it hit something inside of him that had him almost sitting upright with a bark of Cas' name again. He knew he would never tire of hearing his name fall from his lips. He brought his tongue back down, licking between his two fingers, drilling deep inside him as far as his tongue could reach. His thighs were shaking now, trembling with the pleasure of Cas' administrations. By the third finger, he was almost sobbing. It was too much and not enough.

"Cas...please...I-I need-" He whimpered out. But he didn't even need to say anything, he already knew what he needed, just like he always did. With one more nip at Dean's hipbone, he righted himself back over him. Fingers still scissoring him open but mouth now working his neck. Nails were digging into his shoulders, shaking thighs closed around his waist, breathy sighs were leaving his lips almost on a timer. When he pulled away, just enough to look down at his face, he knew the face he was looking at was the one he always wanted to wake up next to.

And just like that, he pulled his fingers out, as gently as he could manage. The noise that left him was one he tried to console as quickly as it had occurred.

"I'll take care of you darling." He whispered against his ear. He rolled them over once more, letting Dean find comfort in taking lead. He lay limp on his chest for a second, trying to regain control over his ready to burst dick. He was clutching it tightly, trying to stop that first orgasm from ending their pleasure so soon. It took a few minutes of Cas' gentle hands running up and down his spine, and of him forcing himself to breath, before he was able to sit upright.

He set one hand back onto Cas' chest, the other slowly reaching behind him to take hold of Cas' own arousal. He felt warm and wet in his hand, so nice and thick he had to stop and breathe again. Carefully, he lifted himself up, Cas' hands on his hips to help him as he found his entrance. Together, they both groaned out their pleasure of first contact. He was so tight and warm. Warm that it was making him sweat.

Sitting down onto his cock slowly took all of his restraint, what he wouldn't give to just slam himself down, right on top of his hard dick. He wanted it so deep inside of him, he would never be able to think about sitting without thinking about Castiel. It was slow, inching down gently, lots of swearing and sweating. He didn't seem to be able to contain any of the noises inside of him. He hadn't expected to be so vocal. Being a man of little words, it seems that Cas always managed to make him speak.

And then their thighs touched.

Fully seated, hand wrapped around himself once again, he was breathing through his nose, and out through gritted teeth. Hard and filling. That's how he felt inside of him. It was the best feeling he had ever felt in his life. Cas had one hand up wrenching his own hair, trying to will his orgasm at bay. His eyes were clenched shut, other hand glued to Dean's thigh, clutching onto him so tightly he feared he would leave a bruise.

"De- he broke off with another moan.

"P-Please don't move yet. I-I don't think I'll be able to contain myself if you were to reposition your-your, uh," He paused, trying to think clearly but not having any more words available. Seeing as he was only capable of speaking in soft moans and loud groans, Dean didn't supply him with an answer.

They waited, both trying to regain some composure before they missed all of the fun. Once his tightness loosened, something Cas took as Dean gaining control over his own arousal, he lifted his hand from his hair, and set it back on Dean's other hip. They locked eyes, both now sure this was it. He set both hands onto his chest, ensuring his balance as he lifted himself up. Knees digging into his sides, Cas knew how hard it was for him to pull away. He nearly wept at the absence of his warmth no longer encasing his cock.

But it seemed they didn't have to wait long. Leaving only half of his hardness exposed, he eased himself back down, seeing stars at the feeling of being refilled. This was what coupling was supposed to feel like. A few more practising rocks up and down and he felt more confident in his own ability at taking him inside. The head of him clinging on as he lifted himself once more, he dropped down, much faster than any of the other times.

Punching a groan out of Cas' chest, and a shout from himself, he was quick to repeat the motion.

Again.

And Again.

And Again.

Nearing his own limits on keeping his orgasm at bay, his thighs hot with exhaustion, Cas set his feet firmly on the bed, thighs lifting off the mattress. He held onto Dean's waist as he thrust up into him, bring them both together in rapid succession. Dean's face screwed up tight, lost in his own pleasure, hands no longer on his chest but clutching back onto Cas' thighs. He was stretched out before him again, and this time he didn't fight his desires. Dropping Dean down onto his cock hard enough to have him screaming. His head lolled back, he knew it would only take a handful of thrusts before either of them were finished.

He knew he was hitting Dean's prostate, there was no other explanation as to the nature of Dean's screams. He brought a shaking hand up, leaving one of his thighs bare, but not cold, thanks to his warm insides heating him up everywhere. He took hold of himself, giving a tug on his cock right as Cas thrust upwards again. And that was all she wrote.

He shot off like a hose, coming all over Cas' torso, marking him yet again. Involuntarily, he tightened around the hard organ inside of him, causing Cas to falter his next thrust, sending him into a quick release, filling him up with a warmth he didn't know he would ever want. It was enough to send another weak spurt of cum from his slowly softening dick.

They caught their breath. Dean, having collapsed right on top of him, was fighting to keep him inside. He felt so warm, he wanted to stay as connected as they had ever been. It was difficult, now growing sensitive to the heat of Dean's tight ass, he knew he would have to part at some point. As he was pulling out, Dean released a noise of protest, whining at the loss of him in such a cute and endearing manner, he considered risking the pain of the over-stimulation.

Dean rolled off of him before he could finish that thought, not traveling far though. Head nuzzled up against his shoulder and neck, Cas found that even though they were both drenched in sweat and covered in their latest venture, he couldn't deny drawing him in that much closer.

"Well," Dean started, only to stop, trying to wedge himself closer to his chest. Burrowing into Cas' arms, he sighed, completely content.

"That was fucking fantastic." He laughed, unable to deny the understatement.


	37. The Boys

He was nervous. Obviously.

It was Sammy's graduation day.

He had his own graduation behind him, now the proud owner of a degree in psychology, it was Sammy's turn for college.

But why. Why did it have to happen SO fast?

He and Adam, and a number of their other closest family and friends had found themselves in the stands waiting for the seniors to walk across the field. Surprisingly, it was still chilly, May was always a confusing time for the Dakota air. The sun was high, glaring down at everyone down below, but the ground held none of its warmth.

Adam was huddled beside him, head nuzzled into his neck. He wasn't going to admit it. Not at thirteen years old. He was way too big to be doing this.

But he didn't care. He had missed his mother so much these last few months, every time he saw him, he almost cried. It was a confusing time in a young boy's life, puberty, middle school, and his big brother graduating and leaving him to finish out his own school career in the care of their father.

He wasn't terrible. In fact, he knew that Sammy and Mom had had a hard life growing up with him, it had been confusing when they finally told him the truth. The only truth he's known since he was a baby. Dean wasn't his mom.

Yes, he kind of knew that already. He knew Dean didn't house those body parts, or was old enough to have even had a child his age. But still. There weren't many things he thought of as unbiased fact. Never eat the yellow snow. Fact. Always trust dad will find a parking spot for the impala. Because he will. And that Dean was his mother, regardless of all the other minor details.

So when he had asked him if he still wanted to call him mom or not, Adam had been confused. Of course he was going to call him mom. That was just who Dean was in his eyes, that would never change, and that was a fact.

So they sat now, Adam clinging to his side much like he did when he was younger. Hand weaseled into his, fighting to stay warm. Dean didn't say anything, didn't bicker about him being much too big to be acting so...baby-like, he just smiled and drew him in closer. The kiss he settled on his forehead did not make him sigh with content, it did not and you will stop patronizing him. He's not a baby.

"Addie?" He spoke gently. He was so quick to respond with a, "Yes mama?" He looked up, finding Dean's eyes already settled on him.

"I know the last few years have been hard, but now that school is over, I'll be back home more. Cassie and I will be moving here," He paused, eyes finding John as he came awkwardly squeezing through the other waiting families.

"If you want to stay with dad, that's okay, but just know that Cassie and I will always have a room for you boys."

He stared at him, a faint smile tracing his lips. Yes, he missed his mother like mad, but...

He turned to look over his shoulder as his father settled beside him, a hand patting his shoulder as he offered a disposable cup of cocoa. John was still his father. He couldn't leave him at the house all alone, especially so soon after Sammy will have gone.

And just like always, Dean seemed to understand. A hand ran through his hair, bringing his head back to his shoulder.

"Okay baby." He said, surprisingly pleased with his answer.

It was another moment of silence before he realized how tight Adam seemed to be. Turning to look at him once more, he saw something he had only seen on Sam's face. Something that had become so familiar but now was a subtle reminder of their childhoods. Adam was pouting.

He rolled his eyes, giving him a quick pinch to the side.

"I know, I know, you aren't a baby, you're thirteen and basically a man now."

After that was settled, Adam leaned into his side once more.

"And too old to be sayin' mama, your brother at least settled on mom. How are you supposed to reel in someone if you keep clinging to your mother's coat like that?" John asked, a smile evident behind his beard. It was both strange and comforting when John finally accepted Dean's role in their lives. He didn't exactly foresee the boys ever seeing Dean in any other light than that of paternity. So he just had to accept it.

He never called him the boy's real mother though, thought it was high time for Sam to get acquainted with his birth mother, and in time, Adam would too. But for their comfort, and the time being, Dean was mom or son.

And he was okay with that.

Adam was pouting again, trying to decide from pulling away from Dean or burrowing further in. He would act his own age...when it was necessary. He had just barely gotten him back, it had been weeks of finals and the commute taking too much out of Dean's work schedule. Now he was home, and for good, so he was being a little underfoot. He wasn't harming anyone.

It seemed like he didn't mind either, especially when Sam came out onto the field. His mom seemed to take in a breath, suddenly realizing just how big Sammy was. He was all grown up now. He may have cried, but he was fine. Perfectly fine. Cas and Naomi came rushing through the stands, excusing themselves past many families trying to catch first photos of their kids in their gowns. John was already up, knowing full well Dean wanted pictures of everything.

Anna was sitting not far, having found herself in a mindless game on her phone beside Charlie and Benny. She looked up at the distinct sounds of her brother and mom settling into their seats. While they always managed a clean appearance, nicely trussed up in their Sunday's best, sometimes they would end up a bit frazzled. Like now.

Gabe had lost his tassel in the car and they had been frantically searching for it while Dean had found the perfect spot.

As they sat down, Cas, not pausing to lean in and kiss Dean's cheek, he ruffled Adam's hair. He was trying to grow it out. Just like Sammy's. He always looked like a grumpy hedgehog though, so he wasn't sure how long this was going to last. Especially if Cas kept doing that.

"How are you holding up mama bear?" Cas asked, taking Dean's free hand into his own. He was met with a frown and a noncommittal shrug. Just like he figured.

"Dean dear, don't worry, we still have two more kids to get through highschool." Naomi supplied.

He offered her a small smile in thanks. Yes he did, but it wasn't the same. Sammy was his first. So it was going to hit him hard.

* * *

He was messing with Sam's cords, trying to even them out, going on and on about how Sam didn't check to see if they were right before pictures with his principle. Catching his hand from trying to mess with his hair (again) he looked down. This was new to him, being bigger than Dean, but it didn't change the way he looked up to him. So he let him off easy, figuring this had been a pretty emotionally challenging day already.

"Mom, it's fine, I don't think anyone will notice."

"I will and it's not okay, I really wanted those photos so we could hang them in the house." 

He smiled, no matter how old he seemed to get, it never stopped Dean from worrying about the most strange things. So he shook his head.

"I can ask him for another photo, will that make you feel better?"

He seemed to think about it, his hand subtly wringing out his other. It wasn't really necessary, plus they did have the after party to get to. He sighed.

"No Sammy, it's okay, Ellen will have my hide if we're late."

He saw the acceptance fall over his brother's face, a hand landed gently onto his shoulder.

"Why don't you and Addie head to the car, I've got to find Gabe before we go, promised him we'd give him a ride since Cas and Naomi left with Anna already." Dean nodded, looking around only for a second before he spotted Adam's head through the crowd. As he walked off, only sending one worried look back at Sam, he let out a heavy breath. John was standing by, watching his eldest as he made his way over to them.

He knew it was hitting Dean hard, hell, watching Dean walk across the stage, twice already, was still difficult for him. Dean was just so grown up now. He was his own man, making his own path in life. And he had never been so proud of him. Of any of them. He was lucky, barely having had any influence on Dean's upbringing, he just ended up that good. The boys as well, Dean had done a damn good job getting them as far as he had. It hadn't been much taking that weight off of him so he could focus on himself for once.

It was expected. The boys and he didn't always see eye to eye. But at the end of the day, all that mattered was he and Dean had done the impossible and worked together to parent both kids.

So when he trudged up, Adam instantly up and back by his side, he didn't say anything about the tears behind Dean's eyes. He already knew what he was feeling. So he wrapped an arm around his shoulder, drawing both boys in, and led them out of the stadium.

* * *

"Here," He said, passing Gabe one of the many camera's Dean had stuffed into his pockets.

"Sambo, we've taken thousands of pictures today. I'll eat this camera if I have to take another." He rolled his eyes.

"Not you and me jerk, me and Principle Roman." At that, he let out an exacerbated sigh. "And do tell, what the heck was wrong with the first one?"

He shrank on himself, despite his large height, he always seemed to do that when he was embarrassed.

"momdidn'tlikethefirstone" he muttered under his breath. He leaned in, brows already heavy with confusion.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch that. Is there a mouse taking residency in your voice box?" He groaned in frustration.

"Mom didn't like the first one okay? Can you just please take the picture?" He asked as he managed to get his principle's attention. After waving to the camera, he seemed to instantly understand what sam was asking, and posed right beside him like the dick that he was. Stupid fake smile. He would not miss him, that was a fact.

After they both heard the shutter and Gabe assured him that nothing was wrong with his cap OR gown, they made their way toward the parking lot.

It was quiet for a second, something he didn't feel comfortable with. A quiet Gabe was a scheming one. They spotted the Impala, John, Adam and Dean sitting in the front seat, waiting for them to appear. An evil grin appeared on his face.

"I think I just realized something Sammy." Gabe spoke as they weaved through the traffic. Before either of them made it to the parking space, Dean was already up and out, opening the back door for them. He turned, an eyebrow raised in curiosity. 

"I don't like this, but okay, I'll bite."

He waited until they were right at the car, so both brothers could hear.

"You're a mama's boy."


	38. Dean's Sappy Heart Will Go On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The after party, in which everyone from all of their lives come together to celebrate two boys entering the adult world. Adam is heading toward high school soon, and Dean...well, he's thinking about something else entirely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings and salutations my lovelies. I think it is high time that these three had finally found some form of settling into a "happy ending," or as happy of an ending that a Winchester can get. Thank you all for your wonderful comments, feedback, and encouragement. It was a journey. I should like to see what the end looks like.

"I am not," Sam pouted, for at least the thirtieth time within the last six minutes.

"Are too." Gabe retorted.

"Boys, if you two don't knock that off, Adam's going to drive the rest of the way to Ellen's. See how you like clutching onto the edge of your seats." Dean snapped. At that, both boys seemed to settle back, only slightly embarrassed at being called out.

"What in the hell were you two bickerin' about anyway?" John asked. Gabe opened his mouth to respond, but Sam, being the now grown up that he was, slapped a hand over his mouth.

"Nothing." He covered with a weak smile.

An indignant brow was raised in answer to his reaction. He was one strange kid, that was for sure, but he didn't want to press the issue. Too many things still rattling around in his head to worry about their last childhood argument. Just then, Sam groaned in disgust, jerking his hand away from Gabe's mouth.

"What the heck Gabe?! You're so gross!" He voiced as he wiped his hand onto his pants.

Well, he had hoped it would have been their last argument, especially one of which ended in someone getting licked. He shook his head. It seemed no matter how old they grew, they still had those childish tendencies when they were around each other. Seeing as the two were always stuck to each other's sides, those tendencies would take awhile to disappear.

He turned, looking over at his other sons, and smiled. Adam was resting his head against Dean's shoulder, the elder playing with the mop of unruly hair. He was going to need a cut soon. He would have to figure out a way to convince him it was a good idea. Especially if he looked right on the brink of sleep as Dean continued his ministrations.

"Would you have really let me drive?" Adam asked as his head piqued in interest. Without even turning, he uttered a simple, "No," and Adam was back against Dean's side.

He turned down the dirt road, only slightly worried about the wax on the impala for a brief second, and found a parking space. Seeing as Ellen had shut the bar down for the night, for family reasons, parking hadn't been that difficult to obtain.

"Dad, should we wait until after dessert to give Sammy his present?" Dean said after Sam and Gabe had gotten out of the car. Adam was sitting up, hair now pointing in many different directions, paying no attention to their conversation. He had been fiddling with the extra set of keys in his pocket, obviously enough to catch Dean's attention, but then again, nothing got past that boy. 

"Yeah, don't want him bouncing off the walls so soon." He grunted as he forced his door open. In all honesty, he was close to bouncing off of the walls, he wanted his boy to see his present. A car he and Dean had devoted as many hours as they could fixing it up. He had applied to Stanford. That was good, meant he had high aspirations and the grades to even consider applying. And even better, he got accepted.

But that meant he was leaving in the fall, farthest away from either parent than he had ever been.

So he was practically ready to burst. A car meant he could visit whenever he wanted to. A car meant he did not have to rely on public transportation. A car meant...the possibility of getting stolen.

Dammit.

How had his thoughts always managed to turn this direction?

"Dad?" Dean spoke gently, hand finding a place along his arm. He looked up, almost startled by how quickly he had submerged himself inside his own head. Dean was standing before him, a hand nudging Adam inside, the other still grounding him.

"Sorry son I didn't hear what you said." He murmured. One thing he didn't mind, Dean worrying over the boys. One thing he hated, Dean worrying over him. Sometimes he just knew, like KNEW, he didn't deserve that level of care. He wanted Dean to hate him, he wanted to be held accountable for his actions, but Dean wasn't like that. He was so much better than he could have ever hoped for. So he didn't press his luck.

"I said, if you keep thinking that hard you'll have a headache. What's on your mind old man?" He both teased and pressed.

Giving himself a moment to iron out his jumbled worries, he sighed. "To be honest, I don't really know."

"Do you...want to talk about it?"

He looked away, finding it too hard and knew he would fall right into Dean's puppy eyes. Sam's were stellar, could twist his arm in an instant, but Dean's...Dean's puppy eyes just had a way of wrenching into his gut. Dredging up old memories of all the bad things he had done, instantly making him go belly up and give in to whatever that boy wanted.

They had a party to attend to, they could discuss parenting later. Especially when Sam wasn't nearby.

"We'll talk about it later boy." He said dejectedly. Nodding in agreement, Dean led the way into the bar, not sparing another glance back at his father.

Yes, it looked like there was something plaguing his father's mind and spirit, but tonight was about Sammy. They could worry about whatever was on his mind later. Right now? He had a congratulatory round of hugs to offer.

* * *

"Gabe, d'you think *hic* that we'll have to get *hic* jobs in California?" Sam slurred. Ellen had given them a few drinks for celebration purposes only, not because Sam's rosy cheeks were adorable. He was leaning heavily into the table where they were sitting side-by-side. Gabe trying to read the calories on the back of his own drink, not beer, but some fruity concoction Ellen had sworn was legit.

"Sambo, this has almost 120 calories. Ellen said this was s'posed to be sweet, but I can ha-hardly taste anything."

Dean watched from a distance, almost sitting in Castiel's lap by this point, he had only had two drinks, but he was feeling extra cuddly today. One of his boys just graduated, cut him some slack. Cas, despite both Ellen and Jo's best efforts, did not break under the amount of alcohol they forced onto him. Cas wasn't an alcoholic, by any means, he just seemed to pack away liquor and store it for later.

So, seven shots later and three beers down, he was still participating in a political debate with Jody and Benny.

"So, from my basic level of understanding, law enforcement mandates employees have a higher level of education, but then relinquish those arguments to fill in any empty spaces?"

"Chief, I'll be honest, I lost you after 'basic understanding'." Benny snorted. Jody was quick to roll her eyes.

"He's saying," she admonished, "forces are letting in people that didn't go to college. Or even some that have G.E.Ds not high school diplomas."

"Oh, well...shit, I didn't go to school, was that a requirement?" Jody sighed. Cas leaned forward, ready to solve this solution, and as he set his fourth beer onto the table, he missed entirely and it fell to the floor. Thankfully, he had practically finished that one as well, but it seemed it was finally catching up to him.

He stared at the glass remnants of his beverage for a second. His arm still wrapped around Dean's waist, leg still supporting one of his, and shoulder holding his head. Dean was already feeling the claws of sleep digging into him. The glass had woken him from a four minute nap, he looked up blurrily, finding a confused expression on his boyfriend's face. Before he had the chance to ask him what the matter was, Castiel spoke.

"When did I grab another drink?"

Both Jody and Benny found that hilarious and instantly burst into fits of laughter that would take minutes to come down from.

* * *

Ellen was sat beside John. Neither feeling the desire to drink past a single beer. The kids hanging around inside, most hopped up or drowsy from liquor. It had been a good day. There was undoubtedly a mess waiting for them to clean up, but for the moment, it was nice to sit and bask in the silence of the front porch. Ellen had warmed up to him, no longer wary of his every single move, and for that he was grateful.

He didn't want to be the reason for tension between Dean and his friends. The night's sky was carrying a colder chill than the morning had provided. They sat lazily upon the stairs, just looking out at the open space before them. Ellen was the first to break that peaceful silence.

"John?"

In leu of responding, he sent an unintelligible grunt of awareness toward her.

"I know you know I hadn't always been too sweet on ya. S'pecially with those boys, but I got to be honest about something." She said, letting the dark of the night carry away any worries. At that, he turned, giving her his full attention, and urged her on with a nod.

"You ain't too bad of a father."

If he turned away to gather a moment to contain his tears, she didn't say anything. Just afforded him the time to compose himself, and when he turned back toward her, he smiled. It was a weak smile, filled with doubt and self-pity, but it was a smile.

"Thank you," he breathed.

* * *

He woke to something tickling his chin. Flinching away, startling a very hungover Cas, he nearly rolled off the bed. Cas, regardless of his headache and distaste in the morning light, reached out and captured him around the waist.

He looked down at him, finding the frown on his face, the rumpled mess of hair atop his head, and his overall grumpy state too adorable. Cas hated the mornings. In addition to his hangover, this was the making of a wonderful morning for him, and a terrible morning for Cas.

He had forced him to brush his teeth before bed, the desire to roll over and smell a donkey's ass farthest on his to-do list. Especially this early in the morning. He rolled over, cramped in the confinements of his childhood bed, and found his alarm clock signaling nearly eleven o'clock. At that he sat upright, nearly smacking Cas' grabby mitts from around him. Shit. He was late. Dad had wanted him to meet up at the shop where Sam's car was to look at it one last time before turning the keys over.

He said something last night about nine in the morning. So he was frantically pulling on whatever closest clothes were available. He found his own jeans, and one of Cas' sweaters long forgotten on his desk chair. He turned, trying to find his cellphone, when he saw Cas was now sitting up. Face baring an obvious displeasure at Dean's scrambling, but also a hint of worry behind his red eyes.

"Uh, sorry, dad wanted me to meet up with him at Bobby's shop to check over Sam's car one last time before we gave it to him. I'm...I'm a little late."

Cas squinted, trying to search through whatever memories he held of last night. He recalled John saying something about nine in the morning, but he didn't remember if it had been about breakfast with Jody or the shop.

"Wasn't breakfast at nine?" He asked groggily. Dean paused, hands playing with the edges of Cas' sleeves, unsurprisingly almost covering his hands. He didn't know how Cas was bigger than him, they were like...the same height. But his clothes always made him feel like he was swimming in them.

Which wasn't an entirely horrible thing, Cas always thought he looked cute. Judging from his more attentive stare, he had guessed that was what Cas was thinking about.

"That could totally be it, but I'm going to call him just in case." He said, returning to trying to locate his phone.

Somehow, like everything else in life, Cas practically held all the answers. He had laid back down onto the bed, an arm covering his eyes as the other waved about, Dean's phone held in his hand. He smiled, returning to his side and trying not to jostle the bed too much as he climbed back in. As he reached out, Cas sprung up, grabbing him and rolling them both over. Somehow he had managed to drag him beneath the covers, now denying any free movements that weren't aforementioned.

"Babe, I kind of need my hands to dial." Instead of easing up his hold, he weaseled one of his own hands upward, reaching around his back to open his phone.

"I can assure you, I am fully capable of being your appendages today. Your warmth is the only thing that matters right now, I shall not release you until I am fully satisfied." He snorted.

"Fine, but I can be my own mouth today." He grumbled, at that an curious noise left the mouth of the man above him.

"Yes, you can be your own mouth...perhaps you might show me later what abilities it possesses?"

Slapping his chest with another laugh, Dean was grateful for the covers above his head now, especially now that Cas wouldn't be able to spot his blushing. Because he wasn't. Blushing, that is. He doesn't blush. And it is not cute.

Shut up.

He felt the smile of Cas' torment along his hairline. Dammit. He knew. He always knew.

Instead of egging him on further, Cas nudged the side of his head with his chin, urging him toward his cellphone.

The line rang only for a brief jingle before John answered.

"Boy, where the hell are you?! I thought we said we were meeting after breakfast to fix the tail lights." He grumbled.

Cas sighed, octopus arms relenting their hold after hearing John through the line.

"Sorry Mr. Winchester," He spoke, allowing a sliver of light to peak through the covers. Dean offered a quick kiss on his nose and rolled out.

"How many times do I have to tell that kid that I don't want to hear about you two foolin' around?" John said in disbelief. He scrunched his nose at that phrasing. Cas didn't so much...tell him about the things they did...he just didn't have a filter when it came to regular conversation.

"We weren't 'fooling around,' Cas was just grumpy and didn't want to get out of bed." He was shoving his feet into his boots, already clopping down the stairs and out the main door.

He was climbing into the driver's seat of his and Cas' shared car, something they both knew they could fix, now that Cas had his job at the college, and Dean was finishing his applications for social services. They had saved up enough to spare another vehicle, but...they were both just so used to the continental.

Sure, it was nothing like the impala, but it did the job.

He managed to pull into the bay before John called him again, and shifted gears before clambering out.

As he let himself into the shop of John's new boss and slowly growing friend Bobby Singer, he almost yelped in surprise. Sam was right there, jumping at him, and tugging his arm forward. Adam was right beside him, pulling on his free hand.

"Mom, c'mon we've been waiting forever!" Adam exaggerated.

"Has not been forever, but Dad's waiting for us!"

With a wave of his hand, he let the boys tug him toward the bay he knew they had been storing Sam's present. As they entered, he was surprised, not only to see Sam's Mustang painted, just in time for the unveiling, but to see the Impala beside it. What the heck was going on? 

"Boys, Sam already saw his surprise, but Dean, I figured it was high time you stopped lugging that piece of junk around town." He said, tossing a set of keys in his direction.

He caught them, dumbfounded, and noticed they were the keys to...no. It wasn't possible.

He looked up, words not finding their way through his throat. John just smiled.

"Now you both will be driving around in style. Can't damn well be a Winchester without the car to back it up."

"Dad, I- he stuttered.

"Castiel can keep that pimp mobile, though if he wants to see it for scraps, let me know." Bobby offered, sensing the struggle Dean seemed to be having. And just like magic, the mention of his other half was enough to settle his nerves.

"Thank you."

He looked up and John was suddenly closer than he had expected, he almost took a step back, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"No son, thank you. Giving you Baby is the least I could do." He looked up, finding a smiling Sam and Adam staring right back at him. "You made them boys into men. Hell of a lot better than I ever could have done. A damn good job son. Damn good." He said, clapping him gently.

Dean nearly sprung into him, clutching onto the back of John's shirt, too emotional to speak. But he didn't need to, he knew John would know what he had to say without saying anything at all.

"All right," John said, pulling away. "Let's go for a drive."

* * *

Cas was waiting on the front steps, just like Dean had instructed, surprised to see not one car, but three pull up. Bobby climbed out of the continental, instantly tossing Cas the keys, grumbling about his 'shitty breaks'. Sam practically bounced out of his Mustang, and Dean climbed out of the Impala.

"What's going on?" He asked as Bobby, Sam, and Adam managed to fit into the backseat of the impala. John had gotten out, only gesturing for Cas to get in.

"We're goin' for a ride baby." Dean smiled. Castiel, upon seeing that beautiful smile light up the already bright day, moved without question. 

Whatever that boy wanted, he knew he'd follow him anywhere.


End file.
